The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar
by kaleen1212
Summary: Perry Mason defends a cat burglar accused of killing his former partner.
1. Chapter 1

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 1

1

Perry Mason took their suitcases from the carousel at Los Angeles International Airport. He placed them on a cart. Pushing them toward the nearest exit, Mason stepped aside so Della could exit first and he followed with the bags. Once outside, he flagged down a taxi. After putting their luggage in the trunk of the vehicle, Perry opened the car door and allowed Della to slide in to the back seat ahead of him. As soon as they were settled, the driver pulled the vehicle away from the curb.

"Where to, Mr. Mason?" he asked the lawyer.

Perry gave him the address of his apartment building and settled back in the seat. He turned, looked at Della, and smiled. "Well, it's back to the office in the morning."

Taking Perry's hand, Della squeezed it slightly. "I'm beginning to think we spend more time in San Francisco than we do here."

"I'll tell you what, the next time Bob calls us to defend someone in San Francisco, you can tell him I'm not available," Perry said with a grin.

"He's your brother, why don't you tell him?" She said, amused with the lawyer.

"I can't tell him no, but you could."

"Let's face it, neither one of us could refuse him," she said with a chuckle. Looking out the window, Della wished they'd arrived on a Friday night instead of Sunday. At least they'd have the weekend before they had to be back in the office. Then again, Perry probably would've insisted they work part of the weekend to catch up. David Gideon would take care of what he could, but there was only so much he could do. Some things could only be handled by Perry.

As they drove through the streets of Los Angeles, Mason wondered what had been going on in the city while they were gone. He asked the driver, "What's been happening while I was out of town?"

"If you mean in court, Hamilton Burger won a case. You remember the man who shot and killed the teller at Wells Fargo bank because she tried to set off the alarm when he tried to rob her?"

"Didn't that just go to trial before we left?" Della asked.

"That's right, Miss Street. Burger got the conviction."

"Who was the defense attorney?" Mason asked.

"Jerry Stillwell. He should've hired you. The trial went fast and the defense was non-existent."

"It should've gone quickly since they had the man on the security system camera. He was identified by the tattoo on his neck," Perry said.

"Not to mention he took the mask off in his get-away vehicle in front of three witnesses who were walking down the street," Della added. "Fortunately, they stuck around and told the police."

"You two know better than anyone that crooks always slip up somewhere. It's just a matter of finding their mistake," the driver said.

The cab driver brought them up-to-date on other things that happened in the city while they were out of town. Before long, he was pulling the cab in front of Mason's apartment building. Perry glanced at the meter, pulled money out of his wallet, and included a generous tip. He handed it over the seat to the driver.

"Do I take Miss Street home from here?" He asked.

"No, we have some work to do. I'll drive her home when we're done," Mason told him. They got out of the cab and walked around to the back. The driver already had the trunk open and was pulling out their suitcases. "I'll help you carry these up to your apartment if you'd like. That's a lot of luggage for one person to carry."

The lawyer decided to take him up on his offer. Della followed as the two men carried the suitcases into the building and walked down the hall to the elevators. After riding up to Perry's floor, Mason unlocked his apartment, shut off the alarm, and preceded the cab driver and Della inside. Mason pulled out another five dollar bill and handed it to the cab driver. The cabbie thanked him and left the apartment.

"Just exactly what work do we have to do tonight, Counselor?" Della asked with a smile.

He turned and grinned. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to be working on a nice glass of wine."

Della chuckled. "Would you like some cheese to go with that?"

"No, just the wine. Will you join me?"

"You pour the wine and I'll unpack the suitcases," Della said.

As she turned away, Perry reached out, took her by the arm and turned her around to face him. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her into him. "The suitcases can wait until tomorrow. This is the first night we've been alone since we went to San Francisco. I don't want to spend the evening unpacking suitcases."

"What do you want to spend the evening doing?" Della asked already knowing the answer to her question.

Mason pulled her tighter to his body, leaned down, and kissed her. When they parted he told her, "I thought we'd call it a night and retire to the bedroom."

"It's only 7:00. It's much too early to sleep," she said with a slight smile.

"Who said anything about sleeping?" Mason said. Taking her hand, he led her to his bedroom.

2

Jack Brace sat at his desk in his locked study. Kneeling down, he reached under the desk, lifted the floor boards, and pulled out a large box hidden in the hole. Pushing the desk chair back, he lifted the box and set it on the desk. Jack reached into his pocket and removed his keys. After searching through them, he found the key he was looking for. He put it into the lock on the box and turned it. Lifting the lid, he stood there for a moment just staring at the stacks of money.

Brace closed his eyes and thought about his son. Tommy had applied to several colleges, but none of them were interested. Unfortunately, his son hadn't applied himself throughout high school and his grades were less than stellar. Most of Tommy's friends had applied and been accepted to various schools and were all busy planning their futures. They even knew what they wanted to study. Tommy couldn't make up his mind what he wanted to do for a living. Now, all his friends were all away at school and Tommy was left behind.

Jack tried to talk his son into attending the local college, but Tommy wanted no part of it. He wanted to go to UCLA like most of his friends. Unfortunately, his grades kept him from being accepted. Tommy was a handsome lad. He was five feet eleven inches tall, weighed 170 pounds, with blond hair and blue eyes. Tommy Brace had even been the star of the football team. But, he was the star of a losing high school team. In fact, the only highlight on the team was Tommy. As a running back, he racked up the yardage on the ground. Although he'd been an exceptional player for his team, he was only average compared with other running backs throughout the state of California. His talent just wasn't good enough to get a football scholarship to a small college let alone the big universities.

Tommy simply never took his school work seriously. He was praised by people in his community often, and he was the talk of the school. He failed to realize his grades were more important than his football talent. Due to the adulation of students and teachers alike, he'd been convinced the colleges would fight over him. The truth was there were plenty of guys with his level of talent; high school stars whose football careers ended at the end of their senior year in high school.

It was now too late for Tommy to go to the local college. The semester had already started. So, he got a job at a gas station, gassing up cars, taking money, and running the cashier for the pop, candy, and potato chips sold at the station. It upset Jack that the boy was wasting his time in the gas station. Yet, he felt it was necessary for him to understand the importance of an education. He'd only learn that by working for minimum wage in a job that required no special skills. Jack had plenty of money. He could put his son through school with no problem. The boy simply lacked focus. He needed to learn; Jack wouldn't interfere with that education. It could turn out to be an important lesson which would lead to understanding the importance of an education.

Brace pulled several hundred dollars out of the box, closed it, and returned it to the hole under the desk. He then put the boards back in place. Anyone looking under the desk would have no idea there was more than a million dollars in hundred dollar bills hidden there.

Jack was an advertising consultant. He made a decent living over the years, but it didn't explain the huge amount of money under his desk. Nor did it explain the several million dollars in an overseas account. An advertising consultant by day and . . . cat burglar by night. Only recently had he given up the lucrative occupation and worked only his daytime job.

Jack was one of the best in the business. That news had spread like wildfire to the right people. Soon he was being contacted by crooks all over the country, who hired him to break into art galleries, museums, and anywhere expensive jewelry or artifacts could be found. And, that didn't include all the jobs he had worked on his own. As a result of 25 years of stealing for a living, Jack was able to retire from the profession. He certainly didn't need the money any longer. He had enough money to live out the rest of his life doing nothing if that's what he wanted. However, it wasn't what he wanted. He actually enjoyed being an advertising consultant. Besides, quitting now guaranteed his freedom. No police department had ever even come close to collecting enough evidence to arrest him. He had no doubt there were some city departments who suspected him, but he prided himself on his planning. Every job he'd done went off without a hitch. All the more reason to quit while he was ahead.

Jack had even cut ties with his partner of many years. Steve Edwards tried in vain to talk Jack out of quitting but to no avail. Brace had no doubt Steve was still taking jobs. He didn't understand why he kept going. Despite the excellent planning of each job, there was always a chance something could go wrong. Jack had been lucky. No one showed up to surprise him when he was on the job. Even though they'd never been friends, he and Steve had worked well together. . How much money could one man need? Still, he had a feeling Steve spent a lot of money. He wouldn't doubt if he spent so much that he didn't have any left to live on. It was probably the reason he didn't retire.

None of that made any difference to him now. He was happy with the way things were. He had a wife who loved him and a son he loved. He just had to figure out a way to put the kid on the right track. He needed a college education. Jack didn't want him taking up stealing for a living. Even though he was probably the best in the business, he worried every day he'd get caught, end up in prison, and his family would have no income. Sure, he had several million dollars stashed away, but the authorities would be watching his family for any signs they were living off some of the ill-gotten funds. Jack simply didn't want that for his son.

Now that he was working a legitimate job, he regretted what he'd done over the years. It had been gnawing on his mind for some time now. So much so, Jack had decided to see an attorney about returning the money, in secret of course. His hope was that it would be returned to some of the people he stolen from over the years. He had an idea for staying out of jail, but he needed a lawyer for his spokesman as well as someone to protect him and his family.

He reached for the phone and dialed the number of a man considered the best attorney in the country. Fortunately for him, that man worked right here in Los Angeles. When he made the decision to seek the help of an attorney, only one man came to mind . . . Perry Mason. When you were in trouble, he was the man you went to.

"Perry Mason's office," Della Street answered.

"I would like to make an appointment to see Mister Mason," Jack told her.

"What's the nature of the business you'd like to see Mister Mason about?" Della asked him.

"It's a very sensitive subject which I will only discuss with Mister Mason. I assure you the appointment is for me. It's in regard to stolen objects and money. Please, I need Mister Mason's help."

Della Street checked the calendar. "Mister Mason has a 4:00 appointment available today if that'll work for you."

"That's fine. I'll be there at 4:00."

"What's your name, sir?"

"Jack Brace," he answered.

"Thank you. We'll see you at 4:00 p.m.

3

Della Street hung up the phone. Something about the call bothered her. She almost told the man Perry Mason's calendar was full. It was the sound of desperation in his voice that caught her attention. When he mentioned it was regarding stolen articles and money, she thought about not giving him the appointment. Perry preferred criminal cases, as in murder, but he handled a variety of other cases. It was definitely the murder cases where Perry made his money. Those who were innocent would pay top dollar to have him as a defense attorney. His reputation was the reason. He was the attorney who never lost. Actually, the reason for that was he had an uncanny ability to access whether someone was guilty or innocent. Thus, he took on a lot of innocent people mixed up in murders.

This was not a murder case. Yet, Della felt compelled to make the appointment and let Perry decide if he wanted to take the case. It was entirely up to him as always. She was proud of the fact that he rarely turned down a case she sent into his office. Perry trusted her judgement. It was an unspoken trust they shared with each other. She listened to him and he listened to her. It was what made them such a great team in and out of the office.

She stood up and headed into see him. Knocking on the door to his office, Della heard him call out. "Come in."

Della Street entered the office of the most successful attorney in Los Angeles, (anywhere for that matter). When he looked up, he expected to see Gertie rather than Della. Gertie always knocked on his office door. Della, on the other hand, usually only knocked when he had someone in the office.

"Della, how many times have I told you? You don't have to knock unless I have someone in here. Just come right in."

"I don't like to interrupt your train of thought."

He smiled. "That happens whether you knock or just come in."

She smiled back at him. Changing the subject, she told him, "I set an appointment up for you for 4:00."

Mason frown. "Why so late in the afternoon? I thought we'd get out of here a little early, go have a nice dinner, and then find somewhere to go dancing. I haven't held you in my arms on the dance floor for a while now."

"Because we still haven't sat down together and caught up on the mail. We need time to get it done before another appointment. If you would've worked on it when I asked you to, I wouldn't have had to set the appointment so late in the afternoon."

Mason's disdain for the task showed in his expression. It reminded Della of a little boy who didn't want to do what his parents told him to. "I hate doing the mail," Mason grimaced.

"Really? I never would've guessed," she said with a slight smile.

"I suppose you aren't going to leave me alone about it until it's done, so I'll finish this brief tomorrow. There is no hurry on it anyway. So let's get it over with."

"Aren't you interested in knowing who made the appointment?" She asked.

Mason was far more interested in the potential client than he was the mail and he knew Della knew it, too. "Okay, who is the client and what's his or her problem?"

"The man's name is Jack Brace."

"Brace? Is that the man who owns the advertising consulting agency?" Mason wondered aloud.

"I don't know, he didn't mention it."

"Well, what's his problem?"

"He said it was in regard to stolen articles and money."

Mason looked at Della and then inquired, "What else did he say?"

Della shrugged her shoulders. "He didn't say much. He only wants to talk to you."

"Then why did you give him an appointment? It really doesn't sound like something I'm interested in handling."

"You're never very interested unless it involves a murder," Della said.

"Della, I handle a lot of work that has nothing to do with murder." Perry stood up and came around the desk. Sitting on the edge of it, he folded his arms across his chest.

"I know that. But, you're always more interested in murder cases."

He smiled. "True. Well, we'll just wait and see what this is all about. I trust your instincts. I'll see him."

She smiled demurely. "Of course you will."

Della left the lawyer's office. Moments later she returned with the mail. She walked around Mason's desk and opened up the left-hand drawer of his desk. In that drawer, Dell kept pencils, pens, and pads for taking dictation for the lawyer. Even though it was Perry's desk, he respected that one drawer as Della's.

Once she had what she wanted out of the drawer, she walked over to the table Mason kept in his office and pulled a chair over next to him. "Okay, Mister Mason, we're ready to begin."

Before they could get started, the phone on Mason's desk buzzed. Della walked over to the desk and picked up the phone knowing only one other person had the ability to call into the private office. "Yes, Gertie, what is it?"

"Lieutenant Tragg is here to see Mister Mason. He was wondering if he could fit him in right away." Gertie said.

Della relayed the message to Mason and he smiled. Tragg would usually just force his way into the lawyer's private office, stating the people of Los Angeles didn't pay him to sit around lawyer's offices. Perry wondered why he was willing to be announced this time. He wondered if he had finally gotten through to the detective during the Lawrence Bradley trail. Tragg and Burger had burst into his office demanding to know where Perry's client was. At the time, Mason had no idea where he was despite the twosome insisting he did. He chuckled to himself just thinking about. He insisted they leave his office and allow Gertie to announce them or he and Della were going to walk out. The attorney knew they could do nothing about even though they had be threatening to have him arrested for harboring a fugitive. They eventually had to give in since they really had no leverage over him.

That might be the reason Tragg was wiling to wait in the outer office be announced. No, Mason decided. Whatever Tragg wanted couldn't be imperative or he would've pushed his way past Gertie. Arthur Tragg was not one to change his stripes.

There was knock on the door. Perry looked at Della and smiled. Will you let our lieutenant into the office, please?"

She headed for the office door as she said over her shoulder, "I'm surprised he didn't just barge right in. You don't suppose he's changed, do you?" Della stopped as she put her hand on the doorknob and turned around. She and Perry shook their heads and said at the same time, "No!"

Della opened the door and Gertie let Arthur Tragg into the office. She closed the door and immediately went back to her desk.

"Hello, Della," Tragg said. "You look especially beautiful today."

"Thank you, Arthur. Come in and have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"As long as you made it and not Mason," he said as he walked over to the lawyer's desk."

Mason was already standing on his feet. He smiled and gestured for Tragg to take a seat, but not before offering his hand. Lieutenant Tragg shook Mason's hand and sat down. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant? Need some legal advice?"

The veteran homicide detective smiled. "Actually, Perry, it's what I can do for you."

"Oh, what exactly is that?"

"You're seeing a client at 4:00 p.m. this afternoon." Tragg stopped momentarily to gauge Mason's reaction. The stone-faced lawyer didn't disappoint. His expression gave away nothing. "Oh, come on, Perry. I know he made an appointment with you. The man's name is Jack Brace."

Della raised an eyebrow at the mention of the name, making sure Tragg didn't see it. She wondered how Tragg knew and just exactly why he was in Perry's office regarding the potential client.

"You do know who the man is, don't you?" Tragg asked.

Mason said nothing. His law business was not up for discussion, especially with Los Angeles' premier homicide detective. Since it wasn't a homicide case, he was curious why Tragg was involving himself in it. Della told him it had to do with stolen money and articles . . . not dead bodies.

"Well, do you?" Tragg asked.

"The only thing I know is the man you just mentioned is an advertising consultant," Perry said cautiously.

"You haven't changed a bit, Perry. Still a treasure trove of information," the lieutenant said dryly.

Mason smiled. "Why don't you tell me why you're here and what it is you're so generously trying to help me with?"

Tragg sighed. "I was hoping to have a forthright conversation with you, but I should've known better. Okay, here it is in a nutshell. The man you're about to see has been masquerading around for years as an advertising consultant. I came here to tell you it isn't his only business. In fact, the advertising consulting business is nothing but a means to hide how he really makes his money."

Mason still said nothing. He was aware his silence would only frustrate the detective, and as a result, he would reveal more than he intended.

"Oh, for cripes sake, Mason. I didn't come here for a one-sided conversation!"

"Then what did you come here for?" Mason asked.

"To head you off from making a big mistake."

The lawyer raised an eyebrow. "What mistake am I about to make, Tragg?"

"Jack Brace is a cat burglar. We haven't been able to prove it yet. But, like all other crooks, he's going to make a mistake, and then we'll have him. I'm just trying to warn you off from getting involved with him."

"Excuse me, Arthur, but what leads you to believe this man, whoever he is, happens to be a cat burglar?" Della asked.

Mason had to turn away to hide the smile. She was fishing for information without admitting they had any knowledge of who the man was.

"Talk, Della, there's a lot of talk among his kind. He's considered the best in the business."

"That's not much to go on, Lieutenant," Perry said.

"In that circle, it's more than enough. The man has a partner by the name of Steve Edwards. The two of them have made mistakes. We're keeping track of those mistakes. When we have enough evidence, we'll arrest both of them."

"I still don't see why you're here telling me this," Mason said.

Tragg stood up. "Okay, Mason. Have it your way. Don't say I didn't warn you." He turned and headed for the door.

Perry Mason stood up behind the desk. "Lieutenant, for agreement's sake, let's say if I were to see this . . . what did you say his name was?"

Tragg smiled. "Jack Brace, as if you didn't know."

"Okay, let's say I knew this man. What's the purpose in warning me? Warning me about what?" Perry asked.

"Look, Perry. I've felt an obligation to you ever since you defended me on the murder of Angelo Devino."

"You don't owe me anything. You paid me to defend you and I did that to the best of my ability."

"Actually, I do owe you. I'm still paying off that bill."

"You don't have to. The police department paid me a handsome sum."

Arthur Tragg shook his head. "But, not enough to cover what you charged."

"I told you to forget it," Mason reminded him.

"I pay my debts, Perry. I know what you get for defending a client. Look, all I'm saying is you need to think twice about defending this guy. He's a crook, he's guilty, and he's going to jail someday . . . I hope. I just don't want to see you get caught up in what he's involved in."

"Now just how could I get caught up in it?" Mason asked.

"Just remember, I warned you." Tragg said nothing more. He turned and left the office.


	2. Chapter 2

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 2

1

Steve Edwards waited outside of the Shell gas station where Tommy Brace worked. He needed a new partner. He hated to admit it, but Jack was the brains of the business. Since Jack quit, he couldn't get the kind of contracts the mastermind had been able to obtain. Edwards had picked up minor jobs along the way; unfortunately, none of them sustained the lifestyle he'd been accustomed to. That had to turn around.

On several occasions, he had tried to convince Jack to come back to the business. It'd been lucrative for both of them. Yet, his buddy had refused. All he'd do is keep repeating that he had a family to think of. What kind of excuse was that? Jack had a family all along. Why worry about them now? Over the years, they'd been provided for. Neither his wife nor his son went hungry. They lived in a huge home, which was paid off years ago. Steve was about to lose his home if something didn't break his way. He decided the only thing that could change his luck was Tommy Brace.

Tommy was a kid who was lost. He didn't know what he was going to do with his life. Local papers had the boy believing he was going to receive a big offer from the most prestigious schools in the state. Steve knew it wasn't going to happen long before the boy did. He just wasn't big enough, fast enough, or talented enough to play college football. Tommy showed cunning in figuring out things he wanted to have. He didn't take money from Jack, despite his father's attempts to offer him what he'd never had at his age.

Steve knew Tommy took a girl to his junior prom. Stefanie borrowed a very expensive necklace from a jewelry store, or rather her father did. Sam Logan was a very powerful member of the Los Angeles city council. He had no trouble convincing the owner of the jewelry store to allow him to borrow the necklace for his daughter to wear to the prom. Sam didn't like Tommy, but he loved his daughter dearly and would give her whatever she wanted within reason.

Tommy had noticed the necklace immediately. It was a beautiful gold chain with a huge diamond. It was surrounded by smaller diamonds in the setting. Actually they were, by no means small, only smaller than the feature diamond. Tommy had seen enough of the jewelry his father had brought home to know it represented a lot of money.

The young Brace pumped his date for information as to when it'd be returned and was able to learn when the members of the family were going to be out of the house, as well as where the necklace was kept. Sam Logan also convinced the owner to allow his daughter to wear it to her cousin's wedding only a few days later. Once Tommy knew when the house would be empty, he headed to collect his prize.

Tommy was in the Logan's house on many occasions, and was well aware of the layout. He could easily maneuver through the rooms with a small pin-light flashlight. As it turned out, one light was left on in the entrance way of the front door. The small flashlight was more than adequate. Using surgical gloves, Tommy picked the lock on the back door of the Logan's home and expertly opened the safe in which the necklace was stored for safe keeping. After removing it, he locked the safe and quietly left the house. Tommy was met by Steve Edwards as he exited through the back door.

Shocked to see Steve there, he soon found out Edwards followed him in and watched his every move. He forced Tommy to give him the necklace with the promise he'd receive a portion of the profit on the sale of the item to a fence. Steve kept most of the money for himself, but gave the boy enough to wet his appetite. He was impressed with the skills the boy had displayed.

If he wasn't able to convince Jack to come back, he had the perfect replacement. He'd take the boy under his wing and advertise him to the right people. He'd let them know he was now teamed up with the son of Jack Brace. With a bit of hype that he was better than his old man, it'd go a long way to once again get the attention of those that counted.

Edwards watched Tommy Brace come out of the gas station and head for his vehicle. It was the only gift he'd accepted from his father. After all, how was he to get around with no wheels? Besides, riding around in a brand new Chevrolet Corvette was certainly better than the piece of junk he'd be able to afford on his crappy job. He hated pumping gas. What station did that anymore? All of them forced people to pump their own gas, but not old man, Waters. Tommy estimated the man had to be a hundred and ten years old. Actually, he knew he wasn't that old, but he was old; at least fifty.

As he approached his vet, Steve Edwards came up behind him. "Hi Tommy."

The young man turned around and he smiled. "Hi, Steve, what brings you here?"

"I want to talk to you about a proposition," Edwards told him.

"Proposition?"

"Yes. I've been watching you. You're making a little money on the side, aren't you?"

Tommy stiffened. What did Steve know? "What do you mean?" He wasn't about to give away anything. Steve would have to tell him what he knew. He needed to know if he knew more than the job at the Logan house.

"Well, you've been casing a few homes, and repeating your caper you performed at the Logan house."

"So what. You and my dad have been doing it for years," Tommy snapped.

"Take it easy, Tommy. I'm not criticizing you. I think you have a real talent there. Maybe better than your father."

Tommy raised a suspicious eyebrow. "So, what are you trying to tell me? Why don't you come out and say it?"

"Aren't you tired of making minimum wage working in a crummy joint like this?" He waved his hand back at the gas station.

"Yeah, I am. Why do you think I'm doing these jobs on the side?"

"Well, I'd like to change all that for you. That's where the proposition comes in. You see, your dad quit the business. He and I were good, Tommy, very good. I thought you'd like to become my new partner. You and I could be a great team, just like your dad and I were, only better. I've been keeping an eye on the jobs you've done. Very professional. You have the touch. You know, your dad didn't pay for that house you live in by his consulting business. He did it working with me. He has a very large overseas account. You could too, if you want to join me. We'll make a lot of money together. What do you think?"

Tommy glanced back at the gas station. He hated working there. In fact, he hated working with the public. Most of them were a bunch of assholes. He was good at his father's profession. He'd been watching him the same way Steve had been keeping track of his own side jobs. Well, why not. He certainly wasn't going to make a decent living working in the grungy gas station. If the profession was good enough for his father, then why not him?

"Yeah, I think I'd like that," Tommy said with a grin.

2

Perry and Della spent the entire afternoon catching up the mail. It was amazing how much would accumulate while they were out of town. Even with David Gideon and Jackson taking care of as much as they could, there was still a huge stack whenever they returned.

"That's it, Perry. We've reached the end of it," Della said. "I'll take these out and start typing up the correspondence."

Mason pushed back the sleeve of his suit coat and the sleeve of his shirt to check the time on his watch. "We only have a half-hour before our mysterious client arrives."

Amused, Della remarked, "You've already decided to take the case then?"

Smiling, Perry said, "Tragg has really upped my curiosity. But, no, I won't make that decision until I've talked to the gentleman."

Della headed out of the office. "I'll let you know when he's arrived."

Mason watched Della until she left the office and shut the door. He smiled and shook his head. How did he get so lucky? He couldn't imagine his life or his office without the presence of Della Street. No woman before him ever had the effect on him she did. Most couples' relationships would end if they spent the kind of time he and Della spent together. They were rarely apart. They worked together and went home together. The only time they were apart was when the job sent them in different directions.

Mason stood up and walked over to the glass doors. He opened them and stepped out onto the balcony. Looking up at the sky, he noticed there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The temperature was warm, but there was a nice breeze blowing toward the building. He thought about how little they took advantage of just stepping outside and enjoying the balcony view. Yet again, this was a law office not a balcony off a mansion. Nevertheless, he and Della needed to take advantage of the balcony in warm weather. Rather than eating at the table in the office when forced to order in sandwiches or Chinese takeout, they should bring it out on the balcony and enjoy it. It would be a nice break away from the pressures of his law practice when they were involved in murder trials.

Mason heard the door to his office open and turned around to see Della coming toward him. Stepping back into the office, he waited for his very efficient secretary to announce his potential client.

"Perry, Mister Brace is in the lobby."

"Did you talk to him, Della? What was your impression?"

"He refuses to tell me anything. He wants to talk to you."

"Okay, well, let him in, Della. Let's find out why Lieutenant Tragg doesn't want me anywhere near this one."

Della again left the office, but this time she returned with Jack Brace. Perry had retreated behind his desk. He stood there with the tips of his fingers resting on the top it. A man in his early forties followed her into the office.

Jack Brace was just slightly shorter than Perry. He had jet-black hair, a mustache and a goatee. His suit was expensive and obviously tailor made. One could practically see his reflection in the shine on his shoes. He wore a wedding ring on his left hand. His watch was solid gold and contained small diamonds around its face. Perry wondered just how an advertising consultant could afford the clothes and the jewelry he was wearing.

"Mister Brace, this is Mister Mason," Della said, introducing the two men.

Brace put out his hand and Perry shook it. Using his hand to indicate the chair in front of his desk, Perry said, "Please, have a seat, Mister Brace."

Jack Brace sat down in the chair, crossed his legs and waited for Mason to start.

"So, what is it you wanted to see me about?" Mason asked.

"Mister Mason, I don't know if you know that I'm an advertising consultant."

"Yes, I'm well aware of it," Mason said. "Is this concerning your business?"

"No, not exactly. At least it's not about that business," Jack said.

"What business is it concerning?"

He looked over at Della, who was taking notes on her pad. Perry saw the concerned look on his face. "Miss Street is my confidential secretary. Anything said in front of her is no different from saying it in front of me. She's also protected by the client/attorney privilege. Miss Street keeps notes in case I have to refer to them in the future. You can speak freely in front of her."

Brace seemed reluctant, but then asked, "Mister Mason, if I tell you things, you can't tell anyone unless I allow it, is that right?"

"Everything you say here in my presence stays in this office. I can't be compelled to tell anyone. Now, why don't you tell me what's bothering you," Mason said.

Jack Brace remained quiet for a moment, trying to decide if this was a smart decision on his part. He had no choice. This was eating away at him, and he needed to tell someone. Why not this man? At least he was in a position to possibly help him. "Okay, Mister Mason. When I said consulting was not my only occupation, I meant I used to have another one that was more lucrative than my current job." He hesitated again. "Mister Mason, I'm . . . or was what you would call a cat burglar."

Perry said nothing. Obviously, Lieutenant Tragg had been right about his assessment of the man. "Go on."

"Well, I quit a little while ago. I've suffered bleeding ulcers and a lot of stomach trouble. I just couldn't do it any longer, Mister Mason. I can't begin to tell you how much guilt I've felt over the years."

"Then why did you do it?" Mason asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Della writing down every word. It'd be helpful for later use.

"I've a wife, who from the very beginning demanded more than the money I made could provide. I know that isn't any excuse for what I've done, but it is the reason. The more she demanded, the more pressure I felt. I met a man in a bar who offered to teach me how to get in and out of houses, break into safes, as well as how to recognize authentic art and jewelry. He was good and I learned quickly. After a few jobs with him, I went out on my own. I picked up a partner along the way. I got such a reputation built up with the right people, and they began to contact me to remove certain item for which I was paid extremely well. The problem was, Mister Mason, the more I provided for my wife, the more she wanted. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The worry over getting caught as well as the guilt for taking these valuable objects from the people who owned them became too much for me. I decided to quit."

Mason nodded. "What is it you want me to do?"

"Well, at first I wanted to just return some money to the owners of the objects that I've been paid over the years to take. But, that's not enough. I couldn't sleep last night, so I got to thinking about it. I know where most of the items went and I know who paid me to take them. I would like to tell the police all of this in return for immunity from prosecution. With what I know, millions of dollars of valuable objects could be returned to their rightful owners, and those who paid me to do it could be arrested and prevented from doing it again."

"I don't know if the police will agree to that," Mason said.

"Could you try to cut a deal for me?" Jack asked.

"It is complicated. The minute I approached the police with this information, they're going to want to know who you are right away. They may not be willing to cut a deal giving you immunity. They may insist you serve some jail time."

Brace shook his head. "No, I will not do that. I've a wife and son who need me. My son is at a crossroad. I'm afraid he knows about what I've done in the past. His prom date had a very expensive necklace on. Her father borrowed it for her. It was stolen out of her parents home. Mister Mason, the job looked like one I could've committed myself."

"You suspect your son was responsible for stealing the necklace?" Mason asked.

"Removing, I prefer to call it removing," Jack said.

"You can prefer to call it whatever you'd like, Mister Brace. When you take something that doesn't belong to you without the permission of the owner, it's called stealing. I'm not going to sugar-coat it for you."

Jack looked at Mason. He supposed he shouldn't have expected less from this man. Still, he was the man who could pull off what he wanted. He was sure of it.

"Do you suspect your son stole the necklace?" Perry Mason repeated.

"Yes, I do. He was out of the house that night. Shortly after that I noticed him wearing new clothes I didn't purchase for him. He has a job at a gas station, but these clothes were too expensive for him to afford on the wages his boss pays him."

"Did you confront him about it?" Mason inquired.

"No, I guess I was afraid of the answer I might get. Look, Mister Mason, I have to stop him from becoming what I am. The best way I can do that is to make sure those who I worked for can never hire him. I don't want that kind of life for my son. Will you help me?"

Mason sat silently for a minute. He wanted to turn Brace down, but at the back of his mind was the boy. The young man might end up in prison if someone did not stop him right now before he got sucked in so deep, he wouldn't be able to stop. "All right, I'll help you. But, only if you do everything I tell you to do."

"You've got it. Whatever you say," Jack said.

"I want to talk to your son. What's his name?"

"Tommy. He just graduated from high school. He missed out on getting into a college because he was sure he could get a football scholarship. Tommy just waited too long."

"I remember, Perry. He was the boy who broke his schools yardage record," Della said.

"That's right, Miss Street. He was a decent football player for high school, but he's too small for college, and there are many boys around the state with more talent than he has."

"I want you to bring him to this office as soon as possible," Perry said.

"Will tomorrow be soon enough?" Jack asked.

"Tomorrow will be fine," Perry said. "Della, fit him into my schedule tomorrow." Turning his attention back to Brace, he said, "You'll have to leave a $5000.00 retainer. I'll warn you this could run in the thousands of dollars."

"That'll not be a problem, Mister Mason." He pulled out his checkbook and wrote a check for the retainer, dropping it on the desk in front of the lawyer.

Mason picked up the check and handed it to his secretary. "Della, give Mister Brace a receipt for this retainer." Perry stood up, indicating the consultation was over. "I'm going to look into this matter and decide exactly how we are going to handle it. In the meantime, bring your son in."

"Thank you, Mister Mason. You've taken a load off my shoulders." Jack Brace turned, followed Della out of the office to obtain his receipt for his retainer.

A few minutes later Della returned. She sat down in front of his desk. "I'm actually surprised you took this case, Perry."

"Did you think he was sincere about feeling guilty about what he's done?" Mason asked.

"Yes, I do. I also believe he wants to make amends."

"That is exactly what I thought. Therefore, I've no choice but to help him. I don't know if the police and Hamilton Burger are going to agree to immunity though."

"Don't you think the amount of information, names, and whereabouts of paintings and jewelry will make the difference?"

"Depends on Hamilton's mood," Perry said. "Well, we better get started. Della, call Paul. Ask him to come down if he is available."


	3. Chapter 3

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 3

1

Steve Edwards had Tommy Brace just where he wanted him. He was poised to turn the boy into his father. Steve was still upset over Jack quitting the business. If he was going to do it, he could've at least given him some warning. Then Steve could've set up a nest egg for himself. Instead, Jack left him with almost no money. It never occurred to him to blame his own actions. The thief never considered himself to blame for anything. This time was no different.

He was angry with Jack. They had a good thing going. Both had made a ton of money. He just couldn't understand why he would walk away from it. Steve had tried to convince him to hang on long enough, so he could get some money in the bank to live on. As usual, Jack only considered himself. When he thought about it, Jack was always nervous about being caught. He should've known it'd lead to the coward running away. Well, if he wasn't going to stick around until Steve had the money to live on, then his son could step up and do it for him.

Edwards liked the idea of Tommy joining him on jobs. After watching him do some minor jobs for himself, Steve was convinced the kid had what it took to be a cat burglar. He also believed Tommy had something his father didn't have, and that was guts. He wouldn't agonize over being caught. The young man would do the job and forget it afterward. Tommy had the ability to plan. He figured it came from being a running back on the high school team. The coach had allowed the quarterback to make the calls. When Steve thought about it; what high school football coach allowed that?

Regardless of who the coach thought was calling the plays, Steve knew it was actually Tommy out there doing it. From those who knew football well, Steve was told the kid did a very good job. His planning skills shined through. The problem was there was very little talent on the team. Tommy was a decent running back, just not a great one. It is easy to set records when the team barely wins a game year after year.

His planning was very good in the minor jobs Tommy had done. With his leadership, Steve could turn him into a great thief. All he needed was some experience in planning the capers. Edwards needed someone who was good at it; he certainly lacked in that area. With Tommy handling it, the customers would come back knowing Jack Brace's son was taking over.

Steve was not normally a vindictive person, but Jack left him almost broke. He was going to pay for that with his son doing what he wanted to keep him away from the most.

2

Paul Drake's code knock sounded on Perry Mason's private entrance. "Let Paul in, will you, Della?" Mason said to his secretary without looking up from his paperwork.

Della Street left the table she was sitting at and walked over to the private entrance door. Opening it, she smiled at the tall, handsome detective on the other side. "Hello, Paul."

"Hi Beautiful," Drake returned with a big smile. He walked past her and looked around.

"Looking for something?" Mason asked his friend.

"Food. I didn't have time to eat today. Don't you have anything around here to eat?" Drake asked.

Mason smiled. He had Della call the deli and bring up some sandwiches, but told her to keep them out of sight. "This isn't a restaurant, you know."

"Yeah, but with the hours you two work, food has to come from somewhere, so where is it?"

Mason laughed. "Bring in the sandwiches, Della. Our wandering boy is hungry."

Della went into the law library where she stashed the sandwiches. She picked up the tray, which also contained bottles of soft drinks. Carrying them back into the private office, she almost laughed at the look on Paul Drake's face. One would think he hadn't eaten in a week. She set the tray down on the table. Perry and Paul got up and joined her there.

Paul didn't wait to be told; he grabbed two sandwiches, a bottle of Pepsi and began to devour his food. "You know, Della, I prefer Coke."

"Well, I prefer Pepsi," Della said. "It's sweeter."

"You're sweet enough," Drake said. "Buy Coke. Perry prefers Coke too."

"Don't drag me into this," Mason said. "I'll drink either one."

"You both will drink whatever I pick up," Della said.

"Sounds like a dictatorship to me," Drake said as he started eating his second sandwich.

Mason grinned. "Della runs the office."

"And, don't either of you forget it," Della said to the delight of both men.

"Now, what did you want to see me for?" Paul asked Perry.

"Have you heard of Jack Brace?"

"Sure, he's an advertising consultant and a damn good one too," Drake answered. "Has he come to you for advice?"

"In a way, Paul. I am going to keep a lot of this close to the vest for my own reasons. I want you to start checking on him. Find out everything you can about him. Use your contact at the police department as well."

"Is this guy in trouble with the law?" Paul asked.

"I don't know, but I sure want you to find out. Also, check out a man by the name of Steve Edwards. I don't know much about him other than he was associated with Brace until recently. Find out what that association was. Check out Brace's son, Tommy. He may be working with Edwards. In other words . . . "

"Find out the works," Paul finished for him.

"That's right."

"What about expenses? How many men can I put on this, Perry? How much do you want to spend?"

"Put as many as you have to. I have a feeling Mister Brace can afford it," Mason told him.

3

Jack Brace opened the door to his massive home. He set his briefcase down on the table next to the entrance. It had become a habit only since he gave up stealing for a living. His consulting business actually could've supported his family nicely, but he loved his wife so much he wanted to provide her with everything she desired.

When he was breaking into galleries, museums, and the homes of the rich, Jack never set his briefcase on the table at the entrance of the hall. He was afraid Tommy or his wife might take a look inside. It not only contained papers dealing with advertising consulting, but also information pertaining to whatever he was supposed to steal at the time. Layouts of homes, types of safes, and security systems were almost always in the briefcase. He couldn't take the chance Tommy or his wife would discover those papers buried with the advertising consulting business. But, now there wasn't anything for him to worry about. If one of them opened the case, they'd only find papers pertaining to his legitimate business.

Jack looked around for his wife. Checking the kitchen, which is where she was this time of day, he didn't find her. A note on the refrigerator door informed him she was grocery shopping. It gave him the perfect opportunity to talk to Tommy. Jack looked at his watch. His son should be home by now. He got out just about the time Jack did. Where was he?

4

Tommy Brace slipped out of the overalls he wore on the job. He spent most of the day working on cars brought in for tune-ups and minor problems. He certainly preferred doing that to pumping gas because people were too lazy to get out of their cars and do it themselves. Tommy hated the job. It was beneath him. He might just as well go sling hamburgers at McDonald's. What he was doing wasn't any different. If he worked at McDonald's, he might come home smelling like a French fry, but at least he wouldn't be covered in grease which he couldn't get out from underneath his fingernails.

He had always been very meticulous about his appearance. It was embarrassing to walk around in this condition. It told people he was low-class. Something had to give. He wanted to quit the job, but he knew his father would throw a fit. So, he continued to come to the hell-hole until he could do something about it. He just didn't know what that could be. He never worked while in high school. In the fall, it was all about football, and he didn't have the time for a job. His father didn't seem to mind. In the spring, he went out for track. Again, his father never pushed him to get a job. He only harped on Tommy finding a college to go to. Jack Brace constantly told him he'd never be able to get a good job unless he went to college to study a profession, which would pay him a decent salary.

Tommy hated to admit it, but his father was right. He couldn't find a decent job. The only thing he could find was either this or some hamburger joint. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to go to college. He just wanted to play football. Tommy's heart had been set on a football scholarship. When that fell through, he lost all interest in going on to further his education. He still didn't want to go. The lad never cared for the academic side of school to begin with. His only interest had been football and track, with football his favorite. Why did colleges think he wasn't good enough? He broke the school's records.

The boy left the gas station and headed for his car. Leaning up against it was Steve Edwards. Tommy smiled when he saw him. "You're here again? Don't you ever work?"

"Actually, I am working tonight. I was wondering if you would like to join me."

Tommy knew what Steve did for a living. He also knew he and his dad had made a lot of money doing it. The small jobs he'd done himself provided him with spending money. The necklace he'd stolen from his prom date could've provided him with a lot more if he hadn't had to share it with Steve. Maybe that wasn't the way to think of the situation. If Steve and his dad could make money stealing, then why couldn't he? Steve had to be good at it. After all, he'd never be caught doing it.

"Maybe. What kind of job is it?" The young man asked.

"A rich Hollywood actor is out-of-town filming one of those stupid shoot-'em-up bang, bang movies. His wife is co-starring with him. The house is empty." Steve smiled.

"So what's in the house?"

"There's a safe full of very expensive jewelry. I have a fence for it, if we can get the safe open."

"Wouldn't the people have an alarm?

"Yep. We'll have to disarm it. What do you think?"

Tommy thought for a minute. "Have you cased the place?"

"Yep. The place is huge, but we only have to enter one room. The safe is in a room right off the back of the house."

"What about security?" Tommy asked.

"I told you, we have to disarm . . . "

"That's not what I mean," Tommy said, interrupting him. "I'm talking about a security guard. If I had valuables in the house and intended to be out of town for an extended period, I'd hire a security company to do regular patrols."

Steve hadn't thought about that. This was the reason he wanted this kid. He was smart and good at planning. "We can case the place and see if there is one. If there is, we'll watch to see how often he goes by."

"What about dogs?" Tommy asked.

Again, Steve hadn't thought of it. All of this had been Jack's job. "I don't know. Your dad was in charge of all that."

"Let's find out. We don't have to do the job tonight. We can go and check it out first and do it later."

"Okay, I'll meet you back here at 9:00 p.m."

"Sounds good. Right now, I have to get home. My father will ask a million questions if I don't."

Steve nodded and walked away. Tommy watched him get in his car and drive away. Things were looking up. He opened the door to his corvette, got in, and drove home.

When he arrived, his father's car was already in the driveway. Tommy had been hoping his he would work late. It would've given him time to grab something to eat and then head back out. He just couldn't listen to anymore lectures about how he should've gone to the local community college. It was too late, and he was tired of his father shoving it in his face. How many times was he going to go over it?

As he walked into the house, his father came out of his study. "Hi Tommy. How did work go?"

Small talk. Tommy hated small talk, especially with his father. They really didn't have anything to say to each other. It'd only escalate into an argument. "It's work. What can I say?"

"Well, it's a job. It'll due until you can find something better. Tommy, I want to talk to you. Come into the study."

"Dad, I have plans. This will have to wait."

"No, Tommy, it can't wait. Come into the study right now."

Tommy recognized the tone in his father's voice. He wasn't taking no for an answer. He wished he could just walk out on him, but he knew it wasn't possible right now. Tommy had gotten use to the life style his father had provided for them, and he wasn't about to go out on his own and live like a pauper. He'd have to put up with his father until he made enough money to live in the style he had become accustomed.

Tommy followed his father into his study. He watched him walk around the desk and sit down. Using his hand, his dad indicated he wanted him to sit on the opposite side. Tommy had no choice but to oblige him.

"Tommy, I've been struggling with something that I need to talk to you about. First of all this conversation stays between us. Your mother is not to know about it. Is that understood?"

"Yeah, fine," Tommy responded.

Jack waved his hand toward the room. "All of this was not paid for strictly by the advertising consulting company. I . . . "

"I know, Dad," Tommy interrupted his father. "You've been working by night as well."

Stunned, Jack stared at his son. "Exactly what do you know?"

"I know that you've been keeping your real occupation from Mom and me. The advertising company is peanuts compared to what you've made over the years. I know you're essentially a thief. I guess it would be called a cat burglar."

Jack sat back in his chair. He couldn't believe what his son was saying. He thought he'd been able to completely keep his family in the dark about what he'd been doing. Obviously, he'd been wrong. There wasn't any sense in denying it. Besides, this was the reason he'd wanted to talk to his son. "How long have you known?"

"For some time now," Tommy admitted.

Jack looked out the window for a moment. Turning his attention back to his son, he asked, "How?"

"Remember when you wanted me to work in the company. You had me come in and showed me how the business worked."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, I got a look at the books. I could tell some of those jobs were never done. I knew immediately you had to be making the money somehow. So, while you were gone, I got into your safe at home."

"How could you? I always make sure the safe is locked and closed whenever I go out of town."

Tommy grinned. "You should be proud of me. I know how to open safes by listening to the clicks."

Jack just sat there looking at his son. Was he so out of touch with his own son that he'd seen the signs the boy had lost his compass? "Tommy, I'm not proud of you for doing that. I called you in here because I'm ashamed of what I have done. I quit because I couldn't look in the mirror."

"Come on, Dad. I understand you're the best at what you do. Why should you be ashamed of being the best?"

"Tommy, I stole from people."

"So what? They were rich people. They don't need all that stuff. You simply took your share."

Jack heard it, but he found it hard to swallow. His own son didn't know the difference between right and wrong. Then how could he? He was the example the boy had to look to. "Tommy, what I did was wrong. I had no right to take something that belonged to others. People lost family heirlooms, museums lost priceless paintings, and stores lost expensive jewelry. It was wrong, son. Don't you excuse or justify what I've done."

"If you felt that way, then why did you do it?" Tommy asked.

"I thought I needed to provide your mother with more than I could afford to. I was wrong. She could've learned to accept what I could provide."

Tommy said there for a minute before he spoke again. "Why are you telling me all this after all the years you kept it from us?"

"Because I retained an attorney. His name is Perry Mason."

"Yeah, I know who he is. He's the guy in the papers and on television all the time. He never loses. Why did you see him?"

"I want to make things right, or at least as much as possible. Mason is going to help me with it. He wants you to come in and talk to him."

Tommy didn't like it. He was about to go into his father's occupation and here he was telling him how wrong it was. Tommy had thought about going on several successful jobs with Steve and suggesting to his father they become partners. It was the only way he could see any kind of relationship with his dad. Now, he wanted to ruin everything. Why didn't he just admit his father was a wimp. They were never going to have any kind of relationship. Tommy wasn't going to work some menial job for the rest of his life. He had every intention of making money and a lot of it.

"Why does Mason want to talk to me? I had nothing to do with what you did."

"Because all of this is going to affect you as well."

"Is Mother going to be there too?" He knew better than that since his father had told him he could not tell his mother of this conversation.

"No, I'm hoping to keep your mother out of it."

"Dad, you could go to jail."

"I'm depending on Mister Mason to keep that from happening."

"How?" It made no sense to Tommy. If his father revealed what he'd done, he was certainly going to serve time, and a lot of it.

"By turning state's witness on those I worked for."

"What? You must be kidding! How can you fink on all those people?"

"Tommy, no one uses the word fink anymore."

"All right, is betray a better word?"

Jack felt terrible. His son had developed a twisted sense of reality. "You just said I could go to jail. That alone should tell you what I did was wrong."

"That's only because some people think they can force their beliefs on others," Tommy countered.

"Do you believe anyone should be able to take anything they want from others, despite that those people own it?"

"Sure. If they can't protect it, that's their problem."

Jack shook his head. Where was he when this kid was growing up? Why hadn't he noticed what was happening with the boy? There wasn't any reason to continue the conversation. He hoped Perry Mason could talk some sense of responsibility into the lad. Obviously, he had failed miserably. "You are going with me to see Mister Mason tomorrow. You are off work, so I'll expect you to go with me."

"Dad . . ."

"No excuses. You are going!"

"All right, I'll go, but I think you should reconsider. You and I could be a great team."

Jack was having a difficult time containing his anger. "You better get your head screwed on right, or you are going to end up serving a very long term in prison."

"Why? You didn't," Tommy said.

"I was lucky! Make yourself available tomorrow. That's final."

Tommy stood up. "I'll be there." He left his father's study.

Jack put his head in his hands. Not only was he a damn thief, he failed as a father. Why didn't he know his own son had developed such a warped sense of responsibility?

5

Perry unlocked the door to his apartment, turned off the alarm, and stepped back to allow Della to enter in front of him. After setting his briefcase down on the floor near the door, he reached over, locked it, and turned on the alarm.

"Perry, would you like a nightcap before we retire?" Della called out from the kitchen.

"Yes, pour me a glass of wine." Mason undid his tie and took it off. Removing his jacket, he draped it over a chair and kicked off his shoes. The attorney sat down on the couch and stared at the blank screen of the television. He wondered why he even had one. He couldn't remember the last time he'd even turned it on.

Della returned with two glasses of wine. After handing one to Perry, she sat down beside him not leaving any room between them. With her other hand, she reached over and slid it into Perry's hand.

Mason's thoughts were interrupted by Della's feminine touch. He looked down at her and smiled. His attention was immediately turned away again as he thought about Jack Brace. The police knew about him, but hadn't been able to catch him. A thief who'd quit the profession would simply do nothing. If the police had not been able to catch him by now, they never would. Perry was certain the man was indeed sorry for what he had done. He had to help him. The only way to do that was to convince Hamilton Burger to give him a deal. The lawyer only hoped Hamilton could see the value in allowing him to trade his knowledge for his freedom or at least a lighter sentence.

"Mister Mason," Della said.

Perry turned his attention back to her. Smiling, he said, "Yes, Miss Street."

"We get so little time to ourselves, it would be nice if you'd give me your full attention when there's no murder case to solve."

Perry set the wine glass down on the table in front of them and took the glass out of Della's hand. He set it down beside the other glass. Placing his finger under Della's chin, he turned her face toward him. Perry planted a light kiss on her lips and said, "Is this better?"

"Much better." She tapped his chin with her index finger.

Mason stopped. "We haven't heard from Paul. I wonder if he's found out anything yet."

"Perry!" Della exclaimed.

Mason smiled. "Sorry, Della. Sometimes, it's hard to leave things at the office."

"I'll tell you what. If you'll forget business, for the rest of the evening . . ."

Perry shook his head. "I can't forget business. I have business on my mind, Della . . .monkey business." He grinned, pulled her tight to him and kissed her.


	4. Chapter 4

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 4

1

Steve Edwards was waiting outside the mansion for Tommy Brace to show up. He looked at his watch. The kid was late, a half-hour late to be exact. He would have to teach the boy you were never late for a job. It could mean the difference between whether the owner returned home while you were still inside. Being late was simply dangerous in the profession. Everything had to be done precisely when it was planned.

Edwards looked at his watch again. It was only two minutes since the last time he looked. He wondered what was taking Tommy so long to arrive. Then off in the distance, he could see the now familiar Chevrolet Corvette. Tommy pulled up behind Steve's car and turned off the engine. Getting out of the car, he headed straight for Steve.

"You're late, Tommy. One of the first things you learn about this profession is you're never late. It means canceling the job and doing it a different night. You must be on time, son."

"Tell that to my old man," Tommy said. "He held me up." The boy shook his head. "He's really lost it. He knows I robbed my girlfriend's house, or at least he suspects I did."

"You didn't admit it, did you?" Steve asked.

"It doesn't matter whether I did or didn't. He knows I know how he earned all his money. I tried to talk him out of quitting. I found out he's going to an attorney. You know, the one that never loses."

Edward's showed recognition at the phrase Tommy used. "You mean Perry Mason?"

Tommy nodded. "That's the one. He's going to return money to some people he stole stuff from over the years. I told him the people deserved to lose their stuff if they couldn't protect it. I got this big lecture on what's right and what's wrong. Can you believe it? My father, who's been a cat burglar his whole life, gives me a lecture on right and wrong." Tommy laughed. "Well, shall we move in and check this place out?"

Steve Edwards had to hide the panic he felt. If Jack went to an attorney to atone what he stole over the years, then he was going to get that lawyer to cut a deal with the district attorney. There wasn't any other way for him to do it. That meant the son-of-a-bitch was going to finger him. He'd have to give up his partner, as well as reveal those they stole from and what they ripped off from them. He couldn't allow that. Steve had to do something about it. But what? Then it hit him. He had the solution right there beside him. The only way he could stop Jack was through his son.

Steve would involve Tommy in this job they were about to do and everyone from here on. He could threaten to expose his son if he went ahead with this plan. He'd go to his office tomorrow. Jack wasn't talking to Mason or the police. Steve would see to that.

The two of them walked up the street. They wore hats pulled low over their faces. Neither wanted to be recognized. Steve had one other thing he wanted to talk to the boy about. He decided to bring it up as they headed to the mansion they were going to check out. "Tommy, there's one thing you have to stop doing if we're going to be partners."

"Yeah, what's that?" Tommy asked.

"You can't show up at a job in a Corvette. Good grief, that's not exactly being inconspicuous."

"It's the only car I have. What the hell do you expect me to do, walk?" Tommy snarled.

"No, I don't expect you to walk. We'll decide on a place each time for you to park your car. I'll pick you up. I drive a nondescript vehicle. No one will notice my car, but they'll remember yours, and that'll be a problem for both of us. You dig?"

"Yeah, I dig."

As they neared the house, they slipped into the shadows. Tommy held up his hand, indicating they were to stop there. He pulled out a pair of goggles and put them on.

"What the hell are those?" Steve asked.

"Night vision. I fumbled my way through my girlfriend's house and I knew it like the back of my hand. Just how are we supposed to get through a house we've never been in?"

"Your father and I carried flashlights."

Tommy laughed at the thought of carrying one. "It's a wonder no one ever saw the lights and called the police on you. You brought me in as a partner because it obviously was my dad who did the planning. Just listening to you so far tells me you suck at it. Get yourself night vision goggles. We'll be able to move through places without using a flashlight, at least not a big one. We'll use penlight flashlights for working safe combinations."

"Okay, you're right, I'm not good at the planning end of it. I'll leave that to you. Why are we waiting here?"

"I'm checking for any signs of cameras. It was easier before the internet. Now people have their homes covered by cameras which are monitored on the internet. They're difficult to spot." Tommy reached behind his back and pulled out a small pair of binoculars. Placing them in front of his night vision goggles, he began scanning the area. With the binoculars still in front of his goggles, he said, "They have cameras and boy are they sophisticated."

"I don't see any cameras," Steve said.

"That's because they are so small, you wouldn't spot them until you're on top of them." Tommy removed the binoculars and returned them inside his belt line.

"So what do we do?"

"We block the internet signal."

Edwards watched as Tommy pulled some gadget out of his pocket and worked with it for a few minutes. He looked at Steve and smiled. "We don't have long. No one is home, so we're going to do the job right now."

"How do you know no one is home?"

"Simple. These glasses can be switched to infrared. If there was anyone in the house, it'd pick up their body signatures. It's not registering any bodies. Nor is it registering any pets. So, there's no reason not to do the job right now. We have to hurry. The alarm company may discover the system is offline. If they do, they'll call the police. Let's go."

Steve and Tommy hurried toward the house. Tommy quickly picked the lock and they entered. "You go that way, I'll go the other. As soon as one of us finds the safe, send a blank text." Tommy wasted no time. He left Edwards immediately. He entered the first room he came to and started checking behind every picture and painting on the wall. When he found nothing, he moved to the next room with the same results.

After several rooms and finding nothing, the phone in his pocket started to vibrate. He looked at it and saw there wasn't any message contained in the body of the text. The young man headed in the direction Steve had gone. Edwards stepped out of a room and waved Tommy toward him. Meeting him at the door, Edwards placed his hand on his shoulder and pointed into the study. A large painting on the wall behind the desk was on hinges and pulled to the side. Behind it was the safe they were looking for.

Tommy walked over to the safe, examined it, and smiled. Looking back at Steve, he told him, "I know this type of safe. I can open it." He turned back and put his ear to it and began turning the combination dial. Tommy was unaware Steve Edwards was recording him with his cellphone.

2

Paul Drake headed into the police department. As he did every time he went to see his source in the building, Paul checked to see if anyone was around. He always tried to visit Sergeant Gil Edgemond at night when there was less personnel in the building. The private eye had to make sure he didn't compromise the sergeant. Without his help, it'd be much harder to provide Perry with the information he needed.

Peering through the window, Paul didn't see anyone. He opened the door and walked swiftly down the hall to Gil's office. As soon as he arrived, he knocked on the door with a prearranged code knock, just as he did with Perry Mason. The door opened quickly and Gill grinned at his friend.

"Get in here before someone sees you. I don't want to be seen with you," Gill said.

"Gee thanks. If it makes you feel any better, I don't want to be seen with you either," Paul said, returning the grin.

Gill locked the door behind him. "No one saw you come in?"

"Of course not," Drake said. "I wouldn't have entered the building if there'd been anyone around."

Gill pointed at the closet to his left. "If anyone knocks on the door, that's where you go."

"Gill, you tell me that every time I come in here. Don't you think I have it by now?"

"Probably, but it doesn't hurt to remind you. Now, what can I do for you?"

"What do you know about Jack Brace?" Paul asked.

The sandy-haired police detective raised an eyebrow over a very low forehead. "Are you working for Mason?"

"Now, you know I can't tell you that. Just tell me what you know about him?"

Gill grinned. "Well, he's a very successful attorney with a gorgeous secretary."

Drake chuckled. "I already know everything there's to know about Mason. I want to know about Jack Brace."

Edgemond sat down behind his desk. "I know who you're talking about. I was just messing with you."

"Stop messing and help me out here," Drake said.

"Not much to tell. He runs a very successful consulting business."

"That's not the part I want to know about."

"Patience, Drake, I'm coming to that. He's a suspected cat burglar. Unfortunately, the man is extremely good at it. We've never been able to lay a glove on him. The MO is always exactly the same, but he leaves no trace he's ever been there. He can crack safes, pick locks, and he seems to be able to do it when there's no one around. He's never been seen at the scene of the crimes."

"Then how do you know he's a cat burglar?" Drake asked.

"Word of mouth among the thieves. This guy is well respected. He's considered the best there is."

"I've been told he's retired now," Paul said.

"That's the word, and since there haven't been any more thefts with his MO, I'd have to say he's definitely retired. We figure he's probably a millionaire by now. The department still wants to nail him."

"Any idea where he stashes the money?"

Sergeant Edgemond shook his head. "None. It's probably in an overseas bank. He does make trips overseas regularly. My guess is, he likely withdraws enough money to live on until he has to make another trip."

"In other words, you boys can't touch him," Drake surmised.

Gill put his feet up on his desk. "Nope. We don't dare even suggest he's a thief. I doubt the man would hesitate to sue us if we did."

"Do you have a list of jobs you think he was responsible for?"

Removing his feet from the desk, Gill's fingers flew across the keyboard. He glanced over at the printer as it came to life. The sergeant picked up the four-page report. "These are the jobs we believe he was involved in. We just can't prove it." He handed the papers to Drake. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, a man named Steven Edwards. What do you know about him?"

"He's rumored to be Jack Brace's partner. From everything we've gathered, he wasn't the brains of the operation. Brace ran everything. Edwards was basically the lookout. He wasn't much use for anything else. Edwards wasn't smart enough to plan any of the heists. If he'd been doing it, they'd both be behind bars."

"Why did Brace bother to use him?" Paul inquired.

"Don't know for sure. As I said, the word out there among thieves is he was the lookout. Brace supposedly split the profits with him 50/50 anyway."

"If Brace has retired, then what's Edwards doing now?"

"That's a good question, Paul. No one seems to know. We do know none of the big-time crooks who pay these guys to steal valuables will touch him. They're all of the same opinion; Jack Brace was the brains and the real cat burglar."

"So, why haven't you picked up Edwards and tried to turn him against Brace?"

Getting up from his chair, Edgemond walked over to a filing cabinet. He opened the top drawer and removed a file. The sergeant returned to his desk and dropped the file in front of Drake. "Right now, we've nothing to sweat him on. That's how good Brace was. However, the word is out that Edwards is grooming a new partner. A kid with the brains to pull off the thefts."

"Do you know who the kid is?"

Gill grinned. "That's where we are going to nail Brace. You see, since Edwards isn't smart enough to do it on his own, and he can't convince Brace to continue, he's decided to draft Brace's son, Tommy, into becoming his partner."

Drake whistled. "That is how you plan to nail Jack Brace, through Steve Edwards. You catch him and give him immunity to turn on Brace. Right?"

"You didn't hear that from me," Gill said.

"Hear what?" Paul asked.

Gill grinned.

"Anything else you have for me?"

"Yeah, we're almost certain the kid is the one who stole the jewelry from his girlfriend's house after the prom. It was a very neat job. We couldn't tie him to it because it was very professional, but we know he didn't have an alibi. The problem is there were no fingerprints and no one saw him or his car parked in the area. We just didn't have anything to hold him on. We can't even figure out how he fenced the stuff."

"Is that it?" Paul asked.

"That's about it," Gill responded. "Tell Mason to dump this guy like a hot potato. He's going down. The police want him really bad. He's been getting away with theft for years, and there's not a damn thing we've been able to do about it."

Paul stood up. "I didn't say I was working for Mason."

"Yeah right," Gill drawled. "Just make sure no one sees your sorry backside on the way out."

Paul grinned. "I'll do that, and thanks for the help, pal."

Gill waved him off. He watched Paul unlock the door and leave his office.

3

The alarm clock sounded on the stand beside the bed. Della reached over and shut it off. As usual, Perry didn't stir. She wondered how the man ever got up on time before they became a couple. He never woke up with the alarm. Maybe it was because he knew Della would wake him when it wasn't possible for him to sleep any longer.

Della left the sleeping lawyer and headed for the bathroom. She took a shower, styled her hair and put on her makeup. When she re-entered the bedroom, Perry was awake and going over papers he'd removed from the open briefcase on the bed. "You'd better get in the shower, Perry. I'll set out your clothes and go cook breakfast."

As Della passed the bed, Perry reached out and pulled her down next to him. Placing his hand behind her head, he drew her into him, kissing her. "You know, if you'd only wake me up when the alarm goes off, we could eliminate some time showering together. We wouldn't be so pressed for time in the morning."

Della ran a finger down his jawline. "If I did that, we'd never get out of here at all." She smiled at him and tried to pull away, but Perry was having no part of it.

"That'd be all right with me," he said with a grin.

"Well, it wouldn't be all right with your clients. Now get up and get into the shower. You better shave, Mister Mason. You are supporting quite the stubble." She kissed him quickly and slipped out of his arms.

Mason headed into the bathroom while Della set out his clothes. After eating breakfast, they left his apartment, got into his Cadillac, and drove to the office. Gertie was already there manning the phones. With the receiver over her left ear, a pen in her right hand, she looked up, smiled at them, and waved. Della and Perry continued through the lobby, the secretarial office, and into Perry's private office.

"What's on the agenda for the day?" Mason asked his very efficient secretary.

"Jack Brace is coming in this morning with his son, Tommy." Della walked over to the double doors and open the blinds. The sunlight quickly invaded the office.

"Della, call Paul. I want to know if he's found out anything yet. I'd feel better if I knew more about Brace, his son and Steve Edwards."

Just as Street reached for the phone, Paul's code knock sounded on the door. Della returned the receiver into the cradle and walked over to the private entrance into Mason's office and opened the door. Paul Drake walked in with a smile on his face.

"Hello, Beautiful."

"Hello, Paul. You're up bright and early this morning." Della closed the door behind him.

"I'll have you know I've been up for over two hours waiting for the two of you to come in." He moved over to the overstuffed chair, sat down, and turned sideways, throwing his leg over the arm. "I've some news for you"

"I was hoping you would," Mason said.

Della went over to the coffee pot. Apparently, Gertie took it upon herself to make the coffee, a job which Della normally did. She poured two cups of coffee and took them over to Mason's desk, setting them in front of the men.

Drake looked up and smiled. "Thanks, Beautiful." He quickly took a sip of the coffee. Perry, on the other hand, didn't touch his. He had two cups before they left his apartment.

"So, what did you find out?" Mason asked.

Drake pulled out his notes and began giving the attorney the information Sergeant Edgemond stated the night before. When he finished, he waited for Mason to respond.

"So, the police haven't given up on arresting him?" Mason tapped his finger nervously on his desk.

"Not from what Gill said. They're determined to nail the man. Perry, they've a sure cut way to do it. Every man is vulnerable where their kids are concerned. And, it sounds like the kid is following in his father's footsteps. Look, I don't know what Brace came to see you about, but I'd suggest you let some other attorney handle it. This guy is in big trouble."

"You've said yourself they haven't been able to find the evidence to arrest Brace. I believe there's a way to help him."

Paul frowned. "Just exactly how can you help a guy guilty of multiple thefts of priceless painting and jewelry worth thousands, if not millions of dollars?"

"By beating Steve Edwards to the punch. I'll get him to turn on Edwards. He came to me for a reason, Paul. Now, I see exactly why he chose the avenue he did."

"Perry, the police are determined to get this guy. If you think you're going to be able to cut a deal for him, I hate to say it, but you're sadly mistaken. They don't want to cut a deal; they want to put him in jail."

"They might reconsider with what I've in mind," Mason said. "Paul, I want you to put a man on Steven Edwards and one on Tommy Brace. Jack and Tommy Brace will be here shortly. I want you to stick around just long enough to get a look at them so you can identify Tommy Brace for one of your guys."

The phone on Mason's desk rang. Della picked it up and spoke to the caller. "Yes, Gertie." She listened for a minute and told her, "I'll be right out." Turning to Perry, she informed him, "Jack and Tommy Brace are here."

"Show them in, Della."

The secretary disappeared through the door leading into her office. A few minutes later, she returned with Jack and Tommy Brace."

Speaking to Paul Drake, Perry said, "That'll be all, Mister Drake, and thank you."

Paul took the cue and left Mason's office, but not before taking a good look at Tommy Brace.

"Mister Brace, this is Mister Mason," Della said, introducing the boy.

Tommy stepped forward and shook the lawyer's hand.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate you seeing us," Jack said.

"Please have a seat." Mason gestured to the chairs in front of the desk.

"First of all, Mister Mason, I want you to know, Tommy knows what I've been doing for a living all these years. You can speak frankly with him."

Mason looked at the boy. Over the years, he'd learned to read people rather well, and the young man didn't want to be in his office. He had to discover if the boy really was following in his father's footsteps. It'd be extremely difficult to make a deal with the prosecutor if Steve Edwards turned on not only Jack, but Tommy as well.

If he read the lad correctly, Mason had his job cut out for him.


	5. Chapter 5

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 5

1

Mason reached out his hand to the young man who hesitated before shaking it. "Won't you sit down?" Perry offered.

Jack and Tommy Brace sat down in the chairs that had been placed there by Della in anticipation of the consultation. Jack could feel the tension coming from his son. Concerned Tommy might resent Mason, he decided to try to break the ice that seemed to be forming in the room. "Tommy, Mister Mason has agreed to become our attorney."

"I don't need an attorney," the boy grumbled.

"Tommy, I've hired a private investigator to help protect your interest and your father's as well," Mason said.

"Like I said, I don't need an attorney," the boy repeated.

"Son, listen to Mister Mason," Jack said sternly. Tommy said nothing.

Mason decided to come right to the point. "My private investigator tells me you have been following your father into his former business."

"Your private investigator is wrong," Tommy argued.

"No, Tommy, he's not. Mister Drake is an excellent investigator, and he doesn't report something to me unless he knows it to be true. Your father has asked me to help him negotiate with the police in order to retrieve and return the items he stole to the owners. It'll be difficult for me to do that if you're stealing. The police will use you against your father," Mason said.

"I told you I'm not stealing. Are you calling me a liar?" the boy said defiantly.

"No, Tommy. I'm simply telling you what my investigator has found out."

"Well, he's wrong." Tommy turned his eyes away from the blue glare of the lawyer.

"No, he's not wrong," Mason said. "I don't have to tell you what you're doing is illegal. You could go to prison for many years with what you've done already."

"They have to catch me first," the young man blurted out before he had a chance to check himself.

"I thought you said my private investigator was wrong," Mason said immediately after his statement.

"It doesn't matter one way or the other. I don't need an attorney."

"You might not think so, Tommy, but I know the law. Sooner or later, you're going to get caught. Then the police are going to arrest you and you'll spend the better part of your life in prison. Is that what you want?" Mason asked.

Tommy stood up. "What I do is none of your business. I didn't hire you and I don't want your services." He headed for the door.

"Tommy!" His father called after him. "Come back here and sit down!"

The lad paid no attention to his father. He stormed out of Mason's office. Jack stood up and attempted to follow him. Mason immediately stopped him.

"Let him go. If he's not ready to admit to what he's been doing, he won't be willing to listen to us."

"But, Mister Mason, I don't want him to end up like me."

Mason picked up the phone. He dialed Paul Drake's office. When he got an answer, he told Drake's phone operator, "There is a young man leaving my office. Have Paul put a tail on him 24/7." After giving the operator the description, he hung up the phone. Turning his attention back to Jack, he told him, "Mister Drake will make sure that he doesn't get into any further trouble."

"Thank you, Mister Mason. I really appreciate that. I don't want my boy ending up like me."

"All right, let's continue. If I'm going to have any leverage at all with the police and the district attorney, I'm going to need names, lists of artifacts, jewelry, and anything else that'll help the police recover what you've stolen."

Jack Brace pulled a journal from his inside suit coat pocket. "That journal goes back 25 years. It has everything that I've taken, who I stole it for, and where it is now, at least to the best of my knowledge."

The lawyer took the journal from his client, opened it, and began reading. He couldn't help but wonder if Jack Brace had considered keeping these records in order to blackmail someone. They were very thorough, with names and addresses of the individuals who hired him to steal the items. It contained a complete description of each item he had stolen, where he had stolen it, how he was able to find out about it, and the method he used to steal it.

"This is quite the list," Mason said. "Why did you keep it?"

Brace smiled. "Isn't it obvious? I am here in your office with the journal."

"You intended to turn these individuals in eventually, didn't you?" Mason asked his client.

"Actually, no I didn't. I kept it to protect myself. If I'd ever been arrested, I'd be able to use it as a bargaining chip for a lesser sentence."

"What about loyalty to your clients?"

"Loyalty? Why should I be loyal to a bunch of thieves?"

"Mister Brace, exactly what do you consider yourself?" Della asked him.

"I know this is going to sound strange to you, but I considered myself a professional. My clients needed certain items and I provided them with a service."

"You don't consider yourself a thief?" Mason asked.

"I didn't use to. However, over the years I have begun to feel guilty about what I've done. That is why I'm here, Mister Mason. I suppose it's because of my son. I've noticed his interest in what I did. Also, I wasn't aware that he knew about how I was making my living. I don't want him to be a thief. He needs to choose an honorable profession. I didn't realize he had gone so far astray. It has to be corrected, Mister Mason."

"Mister Brace, there is something I think you should know. Your former partner, Steve Edwards, has approached your son about becoming his new partner. We believe they did a job recently together. No one knows other than the Drake Detective Agency, but if the police get wind of it, they'll not be interested in making any deals with you. The only deal they might make is giving your son a lighter sentence for all of your information. I doubt that they'll consider allowing you to walk free. My opinion is that they'll expect you to serve your full term in prison."

Jack could feel the panic inside him. He'd never considered that he might have to serve a prison term. He always felt that the information he could provide the police would keep him out of prison.

"My son has to be stopped. I don't want him serving a prison term."

"I'm not sure that I can keep that from happening unless we can convince Tommy to cooperate. You need to sit him down and have a talk with him. I don't believe he's going to listen to a lawyer. He might listen to you."

"All right, if you think that's the way to go. In the meantime, can you approach the police regarding that journal?" Jack asked.

"One thing at a time," Mason replied. "Talk to your son and see if you can get him to understand the position he's put both of you in. Bring him back to this office, and we'll make a plan to protect both of you."

Perry Mason stood up, indicating the interview was over. "Paul Drake's men will make sure Tommy stays out of any further trouble. If he attempts to do any more jobs with Steve Edwards, they'll step in and stop him."

Jack put out his hand and Mason shook it. "I don't know how to thank you. I have to turn that boy around."

"We'll do what we can."

Della Street stood up and walked Jack Brace to the door. She left the office with him and returned a few minutes later. "Perry, do you honestly believe you can keep him out of jail?"

Mason said nothing for a moment. Della could tell he was torn. She waited until he was ready to continue.

More than a minute passed before he said, "My instincts tell me to return his retainer and let him go to jail for stealing those items. Not only is he a thief, but he had a back-up plan in case he got caught. I question whether he's actually remorseful for what he's done."

"But, you're not going to do that, are you?" Della's voice was soft with concern.

Again, Mason was silent. When he did speak, his voice was empathetic. "I am more concerned for the boy. He can't be any more than 18 years old. I'd hate to see him go to jail and spend the better part of his life there. I'm going to stick with the case, Della. That is why I'm having Paul's men follow Tommy. We have to keep him out of any further trouble. If Brace can talk some sense into the lad, then we might be able to approach the police. If he continues stealing, he's going to get caught and then all bets are off. The police will have a case against both of them and I'll not be able to keep either one out of prison."

2

Steve Edwards had Tommy Brace exactly where he wanted him. Even though he thought the boy had a future in the business, he wanted Jack back. He had made a lot of money with him, and he just wasn't willing to give that up. Jack left him high and dry, and that was just unacceptable.

Steve got out of his car and looked up at the tall building in front of him. He almost laughed at the businessmen who were respected in the community. If only the people knew what they were really up to, they wouldn't be so respected.

He walked across the street into the office building where Roy Flynn kept his so-called legitimate business. Steve knew better. The man had been one of their biggest customers. Now, with Jack out of the picture, Flynn wanted nothing to do with him. Well, he was in for a rude awakening. It wasn't that simple. Steve wasn't about to accept being sidelined for someone else. He opened the door to the building and went in. As he walked down the hall, he thought about what he was going to say to Flynn. He was certain when he got through with him, he would be back on board.

Edwards stopped at the elevator and press the button. The doors quickly opened and he stepped inside. Steve hated elevators. He had a fear of small places. After he pressed the button to Flynn's floor, he closed his eyes. If he didn't, he knew he would begin to panic. Steve could've taken the stairs, but he wasn't in any kind of physical condition to do so. After all, Flynn's office was on the 16th floor.

When he arrived at his destination floor, the elevator doors opened. As soon as they did, Steve opened his eyes and stepped out of the elevator. He strolled down the hall at a leisurely pace. He wasn't in any hurry. Hoping Flynn didn't have any scheduled clients, he opened the door and went in when he reached the office.

A young woman in her late twenties looked up and smiled at him. Steve was certain it was not genuine as the last time he came, Flynn threw him out of his office.

"Hello, Mister Edwards. You are aware that Mister Flynn doesn't see anyone without an appointment, aren't you?"

Edwards pulled an envelope out of his pocket and gave it to the secretary. "He'll see me. You just give him that."

She took the envelope from him and said. "If you'll wait here, I'll be right back." She left him and went into Roy Flynn's office. Edwards sat down and lit a cigarette. After blowing smoke into the air, he grinned. He was about to put Flynn in his place.

The door to the office opened and Flynn came out. He looked at Edwards with disdain. "You've got five minutes, Edwards. After that, I'll call security to throw you out."

"Oh, I don't think you'll throw me out." Edwards followed him into his office. Once inside, Flynn slammed the door shut.

Roy went around his desk and sat down. He didn't offer a chair to Edwards since he didn't want him in the office any longer than necessary. "Tell me what the hell you want and then get out."

"For someone I've helped to make thousands of dollars, you certainly aren't very hospitable."

"Jack Brace made me thousands of dollars. You were just along for the ride. What do you want?"

"Money, what else?"

"There is no money here. I told you, I'm not interested in using you. Jack was the brains of your partnership. I wouldn't take a chance with you."

"But, you haven't heard about my new partner yet." He grinned at Flynn.

"I heard. If you think you can use Jack's kid, you're delusional. He's never going to allow it. He's kept his occupation from his family all these years; he's not going to allow them to find out now."

"He's not going to have a choice. Besides, his son already knows."

"Like I said, Jack is not going to allow it."

"I don't think you're getting it. He's not going to have a choice. If he doesn't cooperate, I'm going to the police."

Flynn started laughing. The thought of Edwards going to the police was ridiculous. "You're not going to the cops. If you did, you'd end up in jail. Get out of here, Edwards."

"I'm not going anywhere. You're going to give me exactly what I want, or the police will know what you've been up to."

Flynn studied him for a moment. Was he actually crazy enough to go to the police? He didn't think so, but could he take the chance?

Edwards dropped a copy of a journal on the desk in front of Roy Flynn. "I think you'd better take a look at that."

Flynn stared at Edwards for a moment and then picked up the journal. Opening it, he began turning the pages and glancing through it. Inside, it listed every job that Edwards and Brace had done for him. Not only did it list what they had stolen for him, but it also listed the client each item went to. The more he read, the more he realized what was in the journal could put a lot of people behind bars if Edwards made good on his threat to go to the police. He likely wouldn't serve a single day in prison if he provided the material to the police. No doubt the district attorney would make a deal with Flynn to get the journal. However, the journal only listed the jobs Brace and Edwards did for him. He knew the two of them had done hundreds of jobs over the years for other people as well. Unfortunately, Flynn was aware that Edwards had him backed into a corner.

"What do you want?" demanded Flynn.

"It's very simple. I'm not a hard guy to reason with. All you have to do is to allow me and Tommy to continue to do jobs for you. I'm telling you the kid is every bit as good as his father. I've already worked a couple jobs with him, and he was superb at opening safes and casing the places. Look, Roy, I really don't want to hurt you in any way. You've been good to us. Don't you think I recognize that I couldn't do it alone? That's why I recruited the kid. I watched him do a job on his own. He didn't know I was there. I made up my mind right there that he had the talent to take over for his father. All I'm asking is that you give us a chance to prove ourselves. I hated to do it this way, but you gave me no choice."

Flynn didn't care how good Tommy Brace was. He had no intention of dealing with Edwards. He'd just proven he couldn't be trusted. The only way to handle this was to agree to his proposal, then work behind his back to undo him. Once he told the others who'd also hired Brace and Edwards, what he was up to, he was certain that the decision would be made to deal with him. He was crazy if he thought he could blackmail any of the people who'd hired him and Jack. They were ruthless and would protect their interest even if it included murder.

"All right, you have a deal. I may have a job for you and Tommy very shortly. I'll get in contact with you within the next couple days."

"Now that's more like it. I'm sorry it came to this. I would have preferred you agreed without the pressure."

Flynn grunted. "You mean without the blackmail."

Steve Edwards smiled. "Blackmail is an ugly word. I would prefer to use persuasion."

Flynn stood up. He didn't want the piece of garbage in his office any longer. "You can call it whatever you like, it's still blackmail."

"Okay, it might be a bit of blackmail. But, it worked, didn't it?"

Not for long. Flynn would be on the phone as soon as Edwards was out of his office. He watched as his blackmailer turned and left. Flynn picked up the phone. After dialing the number to Mark Rogers, he told his secretary it was imperative that he speak with him. Rogers was extremely powerful in the city of Los Angeles. He had a couple of the city council members in his pocket. All he'd have to do was to make a phone call to one of them, and Steve Edwards was in for more trouble than he could handle. Donald Fredendall and Bill Mozet had as much to lose as he or Mark. They too had hired Brace and Edwards on several occasions.

3

Della finished the dishes in the kitchen and placed the last of them in the cupboard. She opened the cupboard door beneath the sink and hung the dish towel over the rack. Shutting the door, she reached up and opened the cupboard to her right which contained the wine glasses. She pulled down two of them and closed the door. Reaching into the refrigerator, she removed a bottle of white wine. Della headed into the living room where Perry was seated on the couch and reading the journal that Jack Brace had given him.

Della set the glasses on the coffee table and poured the wine. She sat down beside the lawyer waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. She could see the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth.

"Counselor, I suggest you put that journal down and pay attention to me. All work and no play makes you a dull boy."

"That's not original, Della. You didn't come up with it on your own. Besides, I'm anything but dull." He turned and grinned at her.

"Right now, you couldn't prove it by me. We do not have any murder cases going on right now. Do you think you could set that journal down and relax for a bit?"

The tone of her voice was telling. When she spoke in that low authoritative voice, he knew better than to ignore it. Setting the journal on the coffee table, he picked up the wine glass she set there for him.

"All right, what would you like to do? Watch television, read a book?"

"None of the above. I have something entirely different in mine," she told him.

"And just what might that be?"

"When was the last time we went out and just enjoyed ourselves?"

"To be honest, I can't answer that," Mason said.

"That's my point, Perry. I understand working long hours when we have a case. Right now, there isn't any murder case. I think it's important that we do something together that doesn't include work."

Mason stood up and pulled Della to her feet. "You're absolutely right. What do you say we go to dinner and find a club where we can dance the night away?"

Della smiled at the lawyer. "Now that's what I'm talking about. Just you and me on the dance floor."

"Then afterward?"

"Who knows? You just might get lucky." Della walked away from him, looked over her shoulder, and smiled. "Well, counselor, what are you waiting for?"

Mason hurried to catch up with her.


	6. Chapter 6

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 6

1

Steve Edwards was feeling rather confident. Roy Flynn folded quite easily. He was sure Mark Rogers would do the same. These people weren't going to freeze him out simply because Jack had quit. Besides, he had no intention of allowing Jack Brace to quit the business. With both him and Tommy working with him, they would make more money than they ever had. The kid was good. He had the instincts, but he needed guidance from his father. Unfortunately, Steve couldn't give him that guidance. Jack was always the one who knew exactly how to open a safe, pick a lock, and choose which was the most expensive jewelry or paintings to be taken. Steve admitted he didn't know anything about either.

He pulled his car to a stop in front of Mark Rogers' home. Rogers lived in what amounted to a great big mansion. Steve figured he must be funneling the funds through his business in order to live in this style. Otherwise, the IRS would question the manner in which he was living. He couldn't afford it on the money he made from his real estate business. Rogers didn't even sell any of the real estate himself. He had employees to do that for him. Rogers did a modest business, but Steve knew that he couldn't afford the things he owned with only the income from the real estate sales.

He walked up the sidewalk to the front door of Rogers' home. Looking at his watch, he realized it was after midnight. Steve didn't care what time it was. He knew Rogers would see him. He had no doubt that Flynn was on the phone to him before Steve ever got out of his building. The two men were close friends and kept each other informed of everything concerning Jack and himself. Rogers would be expecting his visit.

The lights came on in the house. Mark Rogers looked through the blinds to see Steve Edwards standing there. He couldn't believe it. What was this man doing here this late at night? He knew why, he just couldn't believe he would come here at this hour instead of his office during the day.

As the door opened, Edwards could see Rogers wasn't happy about being disturbed this late. "What the hell are you doing here, Edwards?"

"I believe we both know the answer to that question. I suggest you let me in or come out here. Either way, you're going to see me right now."

"It's after midnight, for God's sake. My family is sleeping. Come to my office during the day." He attempted to shut the door, but Edwards put his foot inside as he pushed Rogers backwards using the door.

"Just who the hell do you think you are? Get out or I'll call the police!" Rogers attempted to keep his voice low. He didn't want to wake his wife or his two daughters.

"I'm not going anywhere. You and I are going to have a chat. Now, we can go into your living room and do it quietly to not wake up your family, or we can do it loudly right here and now. Either way, you're going to talk to me." He stared at Rogers daring him to throw him out. He knew he wouldn't do it.

Mark Rogers stepped back and allowed Steve to enter his home. Not turning on any lights, he headed in the direction of his study. Since Edwards had been in his home before, he knew the layout. As long as he stayed in the middle of the foyer, he wouldn't have any problems navigating in the dark.

When they reach the study, Rogers turned on the light. He walked over behind his desk and sat down. "Now what the hell do you want?"

"Let's stop pretending that you don't know what I want. Flynn would've called you the moment I left his office. You know what I want, and you're going to give it to me."

"You don't seem to get it, Edwards. Everyone that has dealt with you and Jack know that he was the brains of the partnership. No one wants to deal with you. You'd end up in jail and you'd sing like a canary. Our dealings are finished." Mark knew he was bluffing. If Edwards had produced a journal of all transactions between him and Flynn, he had little doubt that he was about to do the same to him. Nevertheless, he was going to make him prove he could do damage to him.

As expected, Edwards pulled a journal from beneath his jacket. He tossed it across the desk to Rogers. "I am sure you've heard by now what is in the journal. In case you need me to explain it to you, it's every transaction that you did with Jack and me. I also did some detective work and found out exactly where everything we stole went and to whom it went to."

Looking at Edwards, he picked up the journal and opened it. He began leafing through it. It contained exactly what Edwards had told him. The journal went back 25 years. Every transaction between him and the two thieves' work was written there in complete detail. He couldn't be sure where everything had gone, but the ones he could remember were in the book with the correct listing of the recipient of the article.

"You knew from the beginning that Jack was the brains, didn't you?" Rogers asked.

"It doesn't matter who the brains were. I always knew that Jack was better at it than I. However, I have a new partner."

"I know, I heard. You're crazy if you think Jack is going to allow you to use his son. You're even crazier if you think I'm going to trust you and an 18 year old kid."

Edwards smiled. "Well then, I guess I'm crazy. You're going to trust me and that 18 year old kid. You don't have any choice. You and your crooked friends are not going to leave me out of the take."

"Crooked? You call us crooked? Just exactly what do you think you are? You're the one who has been out there stealing the stuff. So stop acting like a virtue of honesty."

"I never said I was a virtue of honesty. The problem is I have to make a living, and there is no other way for me to do that. You leave Jack's kid to me. You see, I also kept a journal on Jack. Not only is there a journal, but I used my phone in the later years to record him doing his work. Discreetly, of course. I couldn't let him know I was doing it. He'll have no more choice than you have. In fact, my intention is to force him back into the business. Between him, his son, and me, you'll continue to receive all of those stolen articles that you'll order up."

"You really aren't very bright, are you?" Rogers said with a smirk.

Rogers' smirk disappeared when Edwards said, "I'm the one holding all the cards. Now, I want your assurance that we will continue our little business arrangement."

"You haven't given me much choice," Rogers snarled.

"I'm glad you see things my way." He stood up and headed for the door. "I'll show myself out. Don't get any ideas that you're going to use somebody else, because that journal I left on your desk is only a copy. I have the original. I'll turn it over to the police without hesitation if I don't hear from you in a reasonable amount of time. I know how often you like to move these things for the money." When he reached the door, he turned and grinned. "Pleasant dreams."

Edwards had a smile on his face all the way back to his vehicle. Two down, more to go. None of these people were going to keep him from the money he deserved to make. Not even Jack was going to stop him from making money. Jack would come back, and they would continue to work together. He didn't have any choice either.

Having accomplished what he wanted, Steve Edwards headed for home. He was feeling pretty good about himself. Steve wasn't allowing any of these jokers to stop him from making money. It was time they learn then if you were going to be a crook, you opened yourself to blackmail. Of course, he didn't like calling it that, but that's exactly what he was doing. Fortunately, none of them could do anything about it. In order to turn him in, they had to turn themselves in. They weren't going to do that. He had totaled disdain for men who put themselves up as pillars of the community when in fact they were nothing but crooks. Steve never claimed to be anything but a crook. It was the only life he knew, and he wasn't going to allow any of these so-called pillars to stop him from making money.

He pulled into the driveway of his home. There was a car parked there preventing him from pulling into his garage. He knew exactly whose car it was. Steve shut off the engine, remove the keys from the ignition, and got out of his vehicle. Walking over to the front door, he turned the knob. Knowing Jill, he never bothered to put the key in the lock. She never locked the door when she went in. He shouldn't have given the woman a key to his house. What a mistake that had been.

He no more got in the front door, and he was met by Jill Bailey. "We were supposed to go out to dinner, Steve. Where have you been, and why didn't you call me?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot. I had business to take care of." Edwards pushed his way past her and entered the kitchen. Reaching into the refrigerator, he removed a beer, twisted the top off, and took a drink.

"You never have told me what kind of business you're in," she complained.

"I've told you on several occasions that I'm in the consulting business."

"Consultants don't consult all hours of the night," she said. "We're supposed to be a couple. Yet, you hardly spend any time with me at all. When I ask you where you've been, you never tell me."

"I told you, I was working."

"And, I repeat, consultants don't work this late at night. Where have you been?" she demanded.

Steve was getting real tired of this third-degree every time he came home. "I'm not discussing this any further. I'm going to bed."

As he attempted to pass her, she stepped in front of him. "No, we're going to discuss it right now. I gave you $200,000 I inherited from my parents. You promised you'd pay it back to me. That was six years ago, and I have not seen one cent of that money. I want my money, Steve. I think it's time we went our separate ways. So pay me my money, and I am out of here."

There was a God after all. Steve couldn't believe his fortune. He'd finally get rid of this woman. However, there was a slight problem. He didn't have $200,000. Edwards had long ago spent that money. Furthermore, he had no intention of paying her back any of the money. It was a small price for her to pay for him having to put up with her for six years. "I don't owe you any money. You gave me that money for an investment. The investment was a failure. I'm sorry you lost the money, but that was a possibility, and you knew it."

"You son-of-a-bitch! You told me it was a sure thing. I wasn't supposed to lose any money whatsoever. You promised to give every sent back to me. I know what you have been doing, Steve. You aren't a consultant at all. You're a thief. Suppose I go to the police. I have kept a record of every time you have been out, what time you left, and what time you returned. I have kept track of the dates. That record is in a safety deposit box. Somewhere you can't get to. If you don't give me my money, I am going to the police."

Edwards began laughing. "Do you really think I didn't know about your little diary? I found the key to your safety deposit box. You haven't been there lately, have you? Because if you had, you would've discovered it is no longer there. I found it and destroyed it. However, babe, you're right about one thing, we're finished. I expect you out of my house by tomorrow."

"What about my money?" She screamed.

"You don't have any money." He turned, walked away from her, and went up the stairs.

Jill sat down on the floor and began to cry.

2

Perry Mason sat in Lieutenant Tragg's outer office. With Della Street at his side, Mason waited patiently for Tragg to appear. He knew the lieutenant was purposely making him wait since Mason had forced him and Hamilton Burger to step out of his office and be announced during the Lawrence Bradley case. Perry would allow the lieutenant his payback. He didn't have any appointments that Jackson or David Gideon couldn't handle. If necessary, he could sit there all morning. Not that he wanted to, but he'd never allow Tragg the satisfaction of thinking it was getting to him.

After a 45-minute wait the door to the lieutenant's office opened, and he stepped out with a big smile on his face. "Well, hello counselor. Sorry for the wait," he said, the smile turning into a grin," but this is a busy place and we expect visitors to be announced."

Mason only smiled. "That's more than reasonable."

"I'm glad you agree. Come on in."

The lawyer and secretary followed the lieutenant into his private office. Lieutenant Tragg gestured for the two of them to sit in the chairs in front of his desk.

"What can I do for you, Perry? You haven't located another dead body, have you?"

Mason couldn't help but smile. That seemed to be a running joke with the police department. Although, he would have to admit between him and Paul, they discovered almost as many dead bodies as the coroner. "No, Lieutenant, no dead bodies. I'm here to see you on another matter."

"And what would that be, counselor?"

"I have a client who has information for the police. He is willing to turn state's evidence in return for immunity."

Tragg looked over at Della. It dawned on him that he didn't greet her when she came in. He'd been enjoying turning the tables on Mason, and he forgot to say hello to the lawyer's beautiful secretary. "Excuse me, Perry, but I forgot to greet Della. As usual, you are more beautiful than you were the day before."

Della smiled at the lieutenant. "Why thank you, Arthur, even if the complement is not deserved."

"Oh, it's definitely deserved." He tipped his hat at her. Turning his attention back to Mason, he had a pretty good idea who Mason's client was. "So you decided to take him on as a client despite my warning."

"I'm not sure who you're talking about," Mason said with a smile.

"Of course you're not. It's that attorney-client privilege thing. Why don't you tell me what Jack Brace has in mind."

"I didn't say my client was Jack Brace."

"Of course you didn't. You never do. Go ahead and tell me what this is all about."

"My client kept a journal of his work."

Tragg snorted. "That's what we are calling stealing nowadays, is it?"

Mason ignored his remark and continued. "The journal includes dates, times, articles, methods, and the names of the people the articles went to." He sent back and waited for the lieutenant's reaction.

"Are you kidding me? A thief that kept those kinds of records would be setting himself up for spending a lifetime in prison or making a deal for immunity if things went wrong."

"My client kept them in order to protect himself," Mason said.

"What you mean is that he kept them in order to make a trade in case he was ever caught. What makes you think we would allow him to get away with it?" Tragg snarled.

"I think when you consider that dozens of stolen articles could be returned to the rightful owners, the individuals who sanctioned the thefts could be brought to justice, and those who purchased the articles knowing they were stolen could also face charges. It could mean the end of a ring of thieves, if you take into consideration that those who purchased in ordered the thefts are just as guilty as the individual that stole them."

Lieutenant Tragg thought for a moment. As much as he hated to admit it, Mason was right. it'd put a stop to a lot of people who are involved in the theft and sale of stolen property. "All right, Mason. I'll talk to Hamilton Burger and see if I can get an immunity deal for Jack Brace under the circumstances. In the meantime, you better make damn good sure you can produce what the man says he can."

"I've already seen the proof, Lieutenant. Believe me, it is extensive. And, I didn't say my client was Jack Brace," Mason said.

"Right," Tragg said sarcastically. "I'll talk to Hamilton and get back to you."

Mason stood up. When he did, Della followed. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll await your call.

Perry and Della left Tragg's office. As they reached Perry's Cadillac, Della asked him, "What did you think, Perry? Do you think Hamilton will go for it?"

"They'd be crazy not to. Think of all the people they'll be able to arrest and take to court. The police department will be credited with bringing down a theft ring. I believe both he and Hamilton will be willing after they discuss it."

"You don't think they'd rather prosecute Jack Brace. Sometimes, they are blinded by the possibility of beating you."

"I don't think so, Della. The one thing that could put a monkey wrench into it will be Tommy. If they catch the boy in the act of stealing with Steve Edwards along, then all bets are off. They'll use the boy as leverage against Brace."

"You've said that before, but wouldn't that be giving up the prosecution of all those involved?"

"Not if they can use Steve Edwards as a witness. I suspect if Brace kept a journal then so did Edwards. Right now, it all depends on whether Paul can keep the boy out of trouble, and if they don't catch Edwards in the act of stealing."

"That's a lot of ifs, Perry," Della said.

"I know, Della. And, believe me, I don't like the odds."


	7. Chapter 7

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 7

1

Lieutenant Arthur Tragg was torn. He had to speak with Hamilton Burger regarding Jack Brace. Although, Perry did not say it was Brace, the lieutenant knew that was who Mason was representing. The LAPD had not been able to catch the man. He certainly was very good at what he did for a living. He never left a fingerprint anywhere, was never seen by anybody, and nobody who they had arrested ever turned against him.

If there was one thing the lieutenant hated, it was allowing criminals to get away with their crimes. Yet, he had been in the business long enough to know that the only way to get the higher-ups was to give immunity to the guys lower on the totem pole.

Jack Brace would be a big prize if they could prosecute him. The problem was Tragg knew fully well Burger was going to want to go after those who paid Brace to steal. Not only that, but the people who lost the valuable items deserve to get them back if at all possible.

Tragg suspected a lot of the paintings, jewelry, and artifacts went out of the country and probably weren't recoverable. However, there would be many things, probably of lesser value, that were still in the United States sitting in some rich man's mansion.

The lieutenant left his office. He was not looking forward to what he had to do. He headed down the hall toward Hamilton Burger's office. Tragg hadn't made an appointment, so he didn't even know if the district attorney would be available to speak to him. Still, he was rather certain when Hamilton found out what he wanted to speak to him about, he would make himself available.

Lieutenant Arthur Tragg arrived at Burger's office door. He opened it and walked in. Burger's secretary smiled when she saw him enter. "Good morning, Lieutenant. What brings you here this morning?"

"Is Mister Burger busy? I'd like to see him if possible. I know I don't have an appointment, but this is very important."

"One moment, Lieutenant, and I will check with him." Rather than use the phone, she stood up and went over to his office door. Tragg heard Burger tell her to come in. She disappeared inside and shut the door. Moments later, the door opened and Burger stepped out.

"Come in, Tragg."

The lieutenant followed him into his office. Burger shut the door behind them.

"What is this about, Arthur?" Burger asked.

"Mason came to see me."

Hamilton shook his head. "Did Perry discover another dead body?"

Tragg could not help but smile. It was a running joke about the number of dead bodies Mason and Drake found due to Perry's practice as a criminal attorney.

"No, not this time. It is on another matter altogether. Do you remember a while back how we were constantly trying to solve burglaries? Paintings, jewelry, artifacts, and things of that sort were being stolen on a regular basis."

"Yes, I remember. Didn't you suspect a man by the name of Jack Brace, but was never able to prove it?"

"That's right. Then all of a sudden, the thefts stopped. The word on the street is that Brace retired. He has a consulting business which he has hidden behind for years. Apparently, that's what he is doing full-time now."

"All right, what does this have to do with me? Did you finally get something on him that we can prosecute?" Hamilton asked.

"Not exactly. Like I said, Mason came to see me. He has a client who his stolen things over the years. He wants to atone for what he has done."

"So why didn't he just come to the police? Don't answer that, let me guess, he wants immunity in return for information." Hamilton surmised.

"That's exactly what Mason proposed."

"I can't believe he would give you Brace's name. All we have to do is drag him in here," Burger said.

"And do what? We still don't have any proof that he stole anything. Without his cooperation, we have nothing on him. With his cooperation, we have to let him get away with everything. Besides, Mason did not give up his name. You're not giving him credit. He's a damn smart lawyer. He's not about to admit that Jack Brace is his client."

"I suppose not. Perry has a tendency to do whatever he needs to in order to protect his clients," Burger observed.

"Tendency? You mean he will do everything within his power, right up to that line without crossing it."

"As far as we know," Hamilton said with a smile.

"So, what do you want to do?" Tragg asked the district attorney.

"What I'd like to do is have you arrest Brace and charge him with every item he's ever stolen in his life. I'd like to put him in a cell and throw away the key."

"Hamilton, this is not Fantasy Island," the lieutenant reminded him.

"I know. Wouldn't it be nice if it were? The first thing I would tell Ricardo Montalban would be to set up a trial where I beat Mason."

Tragg began laughing and Burger soon joined in. When they regained their composure, Tragg asked him what he wanted to do. "Are you willing to make a deal with Mason?"

"I don't see where we have a choice. If we don't make a deal, Mason is not going to give up his client. Not to mention, all those people who have lost valuable articles over the years would never get them back. The least we can do is get them back for them. In the process, we'll be able to arrest a lot of people who paid this guy to steal. We can also go after those who bought stolen property knowingly."

"That's what I thought you would say. I'll get a hold of Mason and set up a meeting."

The door opened and Sergeant Holcomb walked in. "I wouldn't be so quick to make that deal, if I were you."

Hamilton gave him a very stern look. "Listening at my door again?"

"I just approached it. I heard what you said and I thought I better give you the information that I have come across." Holcomb stood there waiting for Tragg and Burger to invite him into the conversation.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd go through my secretary, and do not enter my office without knocking," the Los Angeles district attorney scolded the police detective.

"Well okay then, since you don't want the information." Holcomb turned to leave the office.

"Just a minute, Sergeant," Lieutenant Tragg said. "What information are you talking about?"

Holcomb grinned, but wiped it from his expression before he turned back to face Burger and Tragg. He came forward and sat down in the chair in front of Hamilton Burger's desk.

Hamilton was not exactly happy with the way he made himself at home without an invitation. He wondered why he never got past sergeant, well, this was a perfect example why.

The lieutenant was becoming extremely impatient with Sergeant Holcomb. He always acted this way when he had information that he figured no one else had. "Just exactly what do you have?"

"I believe what you were about to do is make a deal with Jack Brace. It is not advisable since his son has taken up where he left off," Holcomb said with a smirk on his face.

Despite wanting to slap the smirk from the sergeant's face, Lieutenant Tragg held back his temper. It was something he had become very good at over the years. How do you know?"

"The Brace case has always been of interest to me. I have been keeping an eye on him ever since he stopped stealing. Now he is trying to live like an upstanding citizen. He's got a problem, though. His kid wants to follow in his footsteps. Of course, he has had a lot of encouragement from Jack Brace's former partner, Steve Edwards."

"Again, how do you know this?" Tragg's patience was wearing thin with Holcomb.

"Like I said, I have been watching Steve Edwards. The kid has been seen with him on several occasions now. There was a mansion that was broken into. The owners called the police and I happen to be with one of the officers that got the call at the time. When we got there, we found that some very valuable jewelry was taken from the vault."

"Just exactly how does that tie Steven Edwards and the kid to the robbery?" Hamilton Burger asked.

"It was the same MO that Jack Brace and Steve Edwards used on every job. Besides, there was a Chevrolet Corvette parked close by."

"So what?" Tragg said, raising his hands in the air.

"The kid owns a Chevrolet Corvette that his father bought for him," Holcomb explained.

That immediately caught both Burger and Tragg's attention. "Please tell me that someone got the license number off that Corvette," Burger said.

"Unfortunately no. Like all other jobs that Jack Brace did, nobody even noticed he was in the area. This was no different. Nobody saw them, nobody heard them, in other words, nobody saw anything."

"Do you mind telling us just exactly why this is supposed to be important? You can't tie the kid or Steve Edwards to that theft, now can you?" the lieutenant complained.

"No, I can't. However, what I can do is put a tail on the kid. Sooner or later, the two of them are going to do another job. When they do, we've got the kid on theft. We'll have him on a felony charge. You can tell his father that we're willing to drop the charges on the kid if he turns himself in and confesses to the crimes he's committed. That way, you don't have to offer him a thing. Burger will be able to prosecute him, and as he put it . . . throw away the key."

Lieutenant Tragg looked at his sergeant with disgust. "Just exactly, how long were you listening at the door?"

Holcomb smiled. "Long enough. Now, do you want Brace or not?"

Burger sat there for a moment thinking. This would be a way to get the stolen items back to their owners, yet Jack Brace could be prosecuted and put behind bars where he belonged. He liked the idea. Not to mention, he would be able to outsmart Perry Mason this one time.

"Arthur, can you put a tail on the kid as well as Edwards?" Burger asked him.

"Yeah, it can be done. Problem is, we can't do it forever."

"Well, do you want me to put a tail on him or not" Holcomb questioned, becoming impatient.

Tragg looked over at Burger who nodded his head. The lieutenant returned his attention to Holcomb. "Put a tail on them. Let me know as soon as they attempt another job."

Sergeant Holcomb stood up. He had a big wide grin on his face. He hadn't known Perry Mason was Jack Brace's attorney. This made the whole situation even better. He could screw up any attempt by Mason to allow this crook to get away with what he had done.

2

Mark Rogers left his office and headed for the agreed-upon restaurant. He was meeting Donald Fredendall and Bill Mozat. There wasn't any way either of the city council members could ignore the problem that had come about. Something had to be done about Steve Edwards. Otherwise, a lot of people would be going to jail. Mark Rogers wondered whether any of them would stay alive if this became known among the wrong people.

There were a lot of people who had much to lose if Edwards continued his exploits. There wasn't any doubt, he had to be stopped. The question was, how? Short of killing him, which Mark wasn't in favor of, he didn't know exactly what they could do. He was beginning to wish he'd never been pulled into this by the members of the city council. It had turned into a disaster.

When he arrived at the restaurant, he parked his car, got out, and headed for the door. As soon as he opened it, he spotted Don and Bill in a booth in the back. Wasting no time, he headed directly for them.

"Hello, Mark" Don Fredendall greeted him as he sat down. Bill Mosat didn't say a word to him.

"This was supposed to be a smooth operation. I want to know what you intend to do about Steve Edwards," Mark started right in on them. His voice was showing the sheer panic he'd been feeling since the visit from Steve Edwards.

"Calm down, Mark. Panicking isn't going to do us any good. We have to find a solution to this problem. That's why we're meeting here today. Tell us what Steve Edwards said," Fredendall requested.

"He told me Jack's kid is his new partner. He also said that he intends to force Jack back into the business. If he can't do that, and I don't believe he can, he expects us to continue with the same arrangement."

For the first time Bill Mosat spoke up. "Who cares what he expects? We simply tell him we won't do it. He's not going to go to the police and implicate himself in all the objects he's stolen for us. You're worrying about nothing."

"Nothing? Are you out of your mind? He has threatened to go to the police then turn over everything he has helped to steal, as well as the names of the people they went to. Do you understand what that means? There's a lot of very dangerous people out there who wouldn't stand for that. They'd blame us. Do you have any idea at all what that means?"

"Will you stop panicking? He's not going to go to the police. I promise you we'll deal with him," Fredendall told him.

Mark didn't believe for a minute that they were taking him seriously. He wasn't going down because of these people. Either they would do something about it or he would. "You damn well better deal with him. Because if you don't, we're all going down. If you think for one moment that he won't go to the police, you're delusional. He'll save his skin to take the rest of us down. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he hasn't already been contacted by the police. Think about that. He may just be setting the rest of us up." Rogers got up and stormed out of the restaurant.

Bill Mozat sat at the table is calm as could be. It wasn't his nature to panic. He didn't believe for a minute that Steve Edwards would go to the police. Nor did he believe the police would have approached him. They had nothing on Brace and Edwards. Jack was the ultimate thief. He never left a trace that he'd ever been at the scene of the crime. He simply was too talented for that. The problem was not Jack. The problem was Steve Edwards. He wouldn't go to the police, but he could attract their attention by his exploits. He didn't have the talent of a Jack Brace. Sooner or later, he'd mess up and get caught. There lied the problem. If he got caught, then all bets were off. Mark Rogers was right about one thing. He'd save his own skin and allow the others to go down. That was what couldn't be allowed to happen. Going to the police was not a problem at the present time. However, it could definitely become a problem later on. Somehow, they'd have to convince Edwards he didn't have the talent to do Jack's job.

"I don't know who is the bigger problem, Steve Edwards or Mark Rogers," Don said.

"Right now, they're both the problem. How are we going to deal with it?" Bill asked him.

"We will know in a few minutes. I asked Kirsten to join us. No one knows how to handle Edwards better than she does."

Bill wasn't in agreement that all. "You are aware the two of them have been having problems, aren't you?"

"How do you know that?" Don asked him.

"Apparently, she just found out what he's been doing for a living over the years. She's demanding her share of the money."

"That's his problem. You'll have to reveal to her where he keeps money stashed."

Bill laughed. From what I understand, he doesn't have any money. He's on the verge of losing his house."

Don didn't think that was funny. "I don't know why you are laughing, Bill. That only makes him more of a problem to us. If he needs money, we're going to have a very hard time getting him to back off."

"So what do you suggest?" Bill wondered.

"I think we need to involve our friends."

Bill certainly did not care for that option. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You know how upset they get when things aren't going the way they're supposed to."

"Do we have a choice?" Don asked, not seeing any alternative.

Sighing, Bill replied, "I suppose not, but I don't have to like it. I don't care for dealing with them. They're dangerous. If they think we've become a liability, well, you certainly know what that means."

"Yeah, I know what it means, and I don't like it any more than you do. I just don't see how we can handle this alone."

Don's eyes lit up. "There just might be a way. If Steve Edwards wants to use Tommy Brace, then why shouldn't we?"

Don had Bill's complete attention. "Let's hear it."

3

Perry Mason pulled his Cadillac to a stop down the street from the gas station where Tommy Brace worked. He sat there for a moment and watched the young man. Tommy was filling the gas tank of a semi truck. He didn't look happy to be on the job. When he finished, he collected the money and went back into to station.

Despite the sun having set, it was still extremely warm and muggy. There wasn't even a breeze to dry the sweat from Mason's brow. With his tie removed, the buttons at the top of his shirt unbuttoned, and all the windows down on his vehicle, he sat there wondering why he hadn't changed out of his suit before he left his office.

The passenger door opened and Paul Drake got into Perry's car. "Perry, what are you doing here?"

Mason smiled at his friend of many years. He watched as the detective struggled in the front seat. Perry was a big man, but Paul was even bigger than he. The seat in the lawyer's car was pulled forward. Most of the time it was pushed back; Della liked to have her seat even with Perry. The seat was pulled forward to give Paul more room in the back seat the last time he rode with them. She had not moved the seat back. Drake, with his long legs, was struggling to get comfortable.

"Who the heck was sitting in this seat, a midget?" Drake complained. He started searching for the lever to put the seat back.

"Della rides in that seat, Paul, and she is most certainly not a midget. You won't find a lever if that is what you are looking for. There's a button in the front. Push it. It'll move the seat back."

Paul located the button, pushed it, and the seat automatically moved back. Drake grinned as he stretched out his long legs. He looked over at his friend. "You didn't happen to bring hamburgers with you, did you? I'm starving."

"You're always starving. How come you are watching Tommy yourself? Why not just put a couple men on it?" Mason asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a package of cigarettes. He offered one to Paul, who took a cigarette out of the package. Mason then reached back into his pocket and removed a lighter. He ignited the flame and Drake lit his cigarette. Mason, in turn, lit his own.

"In answer to your question, I know you want Tommy kept out of trouble. I've got good men, Perry, but I want to make sure I don't disappoint you. I am personally making sure he doesn't get into any trouble. By the way, I thought you quit smoking."

"I did. You know Della, she always worries about my well-being."

"Well, if you quit, what are you doing with an entire pack of cigarettes?"

Perry grinned. "I am cheating a bit. Della will never know."

"Are you kidding? She will smell the smoke on you," Paul said.

The lawyer grinned again. "I'll tell her it was a moment of weakness."

Paul took another puff from his cigarette and blew out the smoke. "What brand is this anyway?"

Mason turned the package over to look at the brand. He had not bothered to specify what brand he wanted when he bought them, he just asked the clerk for a package of cigarettes of any brand. When he showed it to Paul, Drake took the package out of his hand. He placed them in his pocket and said, "Just keeping you honest. You can tell Della the cigarettes were mine. I'll keep them so you don't have to lie."

"I never lie to Della," Perry said. "She's been working for me too long. She can tell if someone is lying, especially me. You could at least give me a couple cigarettes from the package since I paid for them."

"You don't need a couple more. That's the only one you are going to get. Della expects me to look after you. I would rather face your wrath than Della's."

Before Perry could say anything, a car pulled into the gas station and Steve Edwards got out. "Oh, oh, take a look, Paul."

Drake turned his head and glanced over to the gas station. "Edwards. He can only be up to no good."

Tommy Brace came out of the building and walked a short distance to be sure they were out of earshot of the owner of the station. Both Perry and Paul could see they were having an argument. They were too far away to be able to hear what was being said, but the anger on both their faces was all the confirmation they needed.

"What do you supposed that is about?" Drake wondered aloud.

"Money. They probably don't agree about the split between them," Mason said.

A few minutes later, Steve Edwards turned and went back and got into his car. He squealed the wheels as he gunned the engine and drove away.

"Whatever it was about Edwards was not happy," Paul surmised.

Tommy Brace left the gas station and got into his Corvette. He pulled away from the curb. "Paul, we need to follow him," Mason said.

"You'd better let me drive, Perry. You tail too close. We don't want the boy to know we're following him. If he spots us, we'll never be able to keep up with him in that car, if he decides to give us the slip."

Mason got out of the car as Paul got out on the other side. They switched places and Paul slid behind the wheel. He started Perry's car and pulled it into the street. Keeping a safe distance behind Tommy, but still keeping him in their sights, the lawyer and private eye tailed Tommy to a very wealthy section of Los Angeles.

"Perry, why don't you roll up the windows and turn on the air," Paul asked.

"I can't hear conversations through closed windows, Paul."

"We didn't hear the conversation between Tommy and Edwards," Paul pointed out.

Perry ignored his remark. Pointing at Tommy's Corvette, he said, "He's stopping in front of the mansion at the end of the street. It's pretty isolated."

Drake pulled the Cadillac to a stop at the curb. "Looks like they're on a job."

A car passed them. They recognized Steve Edwards behind the wheel. Edwards spotted the lawyer on the other side of a man he didn't recognize. Fortunately, he had forced Tommy to do this job by himself. Since Jack had gone to Mason, he figured the lawyer would be keeping an eye on the boy. The man in the car with Mason had to be the private investigator who worked for Mason's office. Edwards went around the circular road and kept going. He couldn't be certain whether Mason and his private eye had seen him. He had come to observe Tommy and make sure he did the job.

Mason and Drake watched him drive away. "He must've spotted us, Paul. Go get Tommy before he enters that house."

Drake got out of the Cadillac and hurried toward the mansion. He looked down the street to be sure he wasn't seen. Paul went around the back of the mansion searching for Tommy. It didn't take long. He spotted Tommy, gloves on, working on the lock of the double glass doors into the home. Quietly, Drake moved toward him with the sleekness of a cat. Tommy didn't hear him approach.

"Hello, Tommy."

The young man turn quickly, startled by the private eye's appearance. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Tommy," Drake responded.

"It's not what you think, Mister Drake," Brace said, knowing Drake didn't believe him.

"Right. I think you better come with me. Mister Mason is waiting in the car. I think he'll want to talk to you."

Tommy looked at Drake. He had considered not going with him, but Drake was a big man, a lot bigger than Tommy. He hadn't any doubt the man was big enough to force him. Nor did he have any doubt that Drake would do it. Rather than put himself through that scene, he left the glass doors and followed Paul back to Perry's Cadillac.

As they approached the vehicle, Tommy heard Mason's voice. "Hello, Tommy, get in." Mason had moved back to the driver's seat.

Drake opened the front passenger door and Tommy did as he was told. Mason looked at him and said. "Give Mister Drake the keys to your Corvette."

"What for?" the boy demanded.

"He's going to drive your car to your home. You and I are going to have a talk."

There wasn't any sense in resisting. Tommy already figured Mason wouldn't back down. He reached in his pocket and handed the keys to his car to Paul. Drake immediately left and headed for the Corvette. He got in, started the car, and drove away. Tommy sat there looking down. He could not face Mason. The boy was embarrassed. He hadn't even spotted a tail. His father must've asked Mason to keep track of him.

Mason started the engine of his vehicle and pulled away from the curb. He didn't say anything right away. It only served to make Tommy more nervous.

Mason finally broke the silence. "Tommy, have you ever visited a prison?"

The boy rolled his eyes. He was in for another lecture and this time he didn't deserve it. At least not in the way Mason was going to deliver it. He decided to head the lawyer off. Mason was persistent. He'd give him that. He wasn't going to give up trying to convince him to stay away from his father's occupation. "No, I haven't. Is that supposed to scare me?"

"It should, that is if you've an ounce of sense. I can arrange a tour if you'd like." Mason drove in the opposite direction of the Brace home. He wanted more time than the 20 minute drive it would normally take him.

"I don't want a tour, Mason," Tommy snarled.

"That's Mister Mason," Perry said, raising his voice. "Don't you think it is time you grow up? You don't have what it takes to be a cat burglar. You park a Corvette, of all vehicles, nearby for anyone to recognize. You didn't even check out the house in advance. You had no idea if you were going to come into contact with the people who live here."

"Steve said he cased the house." Tommy immediately looked away from Mason.

"Steve Edwards is using you, Tommy. If he can get you involve in these thefts, he can blackmail your father into going back to stealing again. Why do you think he sent you out here in the first place?"

Tommy put his head back on the headrest of the car and swallowed hard. "I know that Mister Mason. He is blackmailing me."

"Blackmailing you? How? Does it have something to do with the argument you were having with him at the gas station?" Perry asked.

Tommy looked at him and shook his head. "You're having me watched, aren't you?"

"Yes, Tommy. Your father is trying to obtain immunity from the police and the district attorney. Steve Edwards knows it. He doesn't want your father to turn state's evidence. You probably have figured out he can't perform the burglaries on his own. He wants your father back. He is only using you to force him to return to working with him."

"I know that, Mister Mason. That is what the argument was about. I thought about what you said in your office. I guess I have been a real jerk to my dad. It's my mom's fault actually. She was always demanding more from him. You see, Mister Mason, my father loves us. He has never refused me or my mother anything. My mother has expensive taste."

"That doesn't excuse what your father has done, Tommy, or for that matter, what you've done," Mason said.

"I know that, but it is a reason. Mister Mason, Steve followed me into my girlfriend's house where I stole the necklace. I didn't know he was there. He shot a video with his phone. He asked me to be his partner. Steve didn't tell me at the time that he had been there. Later, he forced me to give him the necklace, and he fenced it. I got a small portion of that money. I know he kept most of it. It was a very valuable necklace. I don't know where it went."

"How is he blackmailing you?"

"He said if I didn't become his partner and go on these jobs with him, he'd go to the police, turn state's evidence, and see to it that my father went to jail for the rest of his life. I can't let that happen, Mister Mason. This is my fault. If I hadn't stolen that necklace, my father would not be in this position."

"Okay, here's what we are going to do. You are not going on anymore jobs with or without Steve Edwards. Is that clear?" Mason told him.

"But, he will go to the police. I can't let my father go to jail. He is trying to make things right. I have to make the things that I have done right."

"You leave that to me. You just keep yourself out of further trouble," Mason said.

The lawyer pulled his car up in front of Jack Brace's home. Tommy's Corvette was parked in the driveway. Paul Drake got out of his operative's car and walked over to the passenger side of Mason's vehicle. He handed the keys to the Corvette to Tommy. The young man got out of the car, bent down, and looked at Perry Mason.

"Thank you, Mister Mason. I realize now that I do need your help. I'll do exactly as you say. You can count on it." He turned and walked up the sidewalk, opened the front door of the house, and disappeared inside.

"Did the boy actually have a change of heart," Paul asked Perry as he got into the front seat of his car.

"I believe so, Paul. Steve Edwards is working overtime."

Paul guessed, "Edwards is blackmailing the kid too."

"That's right, Paul. He is playing father and son against one another." Mason went on to relay the conversation he had with Tommy Brace.

Paul shook his head. "I would suggest you get that deal with Tragg and Burger and do it fast before Edwards gets there first."

"I don't believe that'll happen," Mason said. "Edwards is a coward. He'll never turn himself in. He's bluffing."

"Perry, I don't think you can take that chance. If he gets there first, your client goes to jail, and so does his son."

"I don't intend to take any chances. I am going to give Burger until tomorrow at noon, and then I intend to contact him. In the meantime, let's go in and talk to Jack."

"You can't. He isn't home. I already checked. I was going to drop off the keys as one of my men showed up to watch the house and follow Tommy if he leaves. Brace's wife said he was out. She didn't know where he was or how to get a hold of him.

Mason looked around. "Where's your car?"

"I sent it back with one of my boys. I figured you'd want to go out and look for Jack Brace. That is what you want to do, isn't it?"

Mason started his automobile and put it in gear. "That's exactly what I want to do. We need to find Brace before Edwards does."

"Let me give my man instructions and I'll be right back." Drake got out of the car and walked back to the operative's car. Mason watched in the rear view mirror while Paul spoke with his operative. Within a couple of minutes, he returned to Mason's car and got in. The lawyer put the car in gear and drove away.

4

Steve Edwards couldn't believe it. That damn lawyer was going to ruin everything. Well, he wasn't about to allow that to happen. Jack owed him. He was going to come back to the business whether he wanted to or not.

It didn't matter to him that Tommy did not break into the house. He already had him on video stealing that necklace at his girlfriend's home. It was time Jack Brace saw that video. If Tommy was out of the picture as a possible partner, then it made it more imperative that Jack return.

He pulled into Joe's Tavern. It was a place that Jack frequented often. He knew he wasn't at home as he had stopped by and cased his house. There was a car parked outside Jack's place. It had to be one of the Drake Detective Agency's private eyes. He didn't hang around long to ensure that he wasn't spotted.

Steve had been driving around getting madder by the moment. If he lost his house, he would lose his wife. Steve had been lying to her for some time. She honestly thought the house was nearly paid off. With the money he'd been earning when working with Jack, he was placing bets with a bookie. Steve had also been going to the racetrack and betting on the horses. He had no money left. Steve had to do something or his house was facing foreclosure. Despite the fact that he had never been faithful to his wife, he still loved her. If he lost her, Jack Brace was going to pay. He had no intention of sitting by while Jack lived high on the hog, and he was struggling to pay the bills.

He got out of his vehicle and went into the tavern. With a low ceiling, the place was extremely noisy. It took him only a couple of minutes to spot Jack. He was sitting at the end of the bar with a drink in front of him. Steve headed directly for him. Sitting down on the stool beside Jack, he said, "I think it is about time you and I had a chat. I have a video you need to see."


	8. Chapter 8

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 8

1

"I have nothing to say to you, Steve. So, just turn around and leave. I'm trying to get my life straightened out," Jack snarled at his former partner.

"By ruining a lot of other people's lives, is that it?" Steve said.

"They all knew what they were doing. Look, I have a kid. I have to think of him first. I don't want him entering into what I've done in the past. I want Tommy to make something of himself; go to school, learn a trade or a profession."

"What the hell do you think what we do is? It's a profession, and it pays extremely well."

"An illegal profession. I don't want that for my son. I'd think you'd understand that."

"What I understand is you've left me high and dry. I'm about to lose my home. My wife has no idea that I haven't been paying the mortgage. I've received a foreclosure notice on the house. If I don't come up with some serious money really soon, I'm going to lose my house and probably my wife. It'll be on your head,"

Jack was about to take another sip of his beer. With that remark, he set it back down on the bar. "On my head? You can't be serious. I gave you half of everything. I did all the work. All you did was stand as a lookout, which by the way, I really didn't need. I did all the planning. I knew no one would show up while I was doing the job."

"You mean while we were doing the job, don't you?" Steve growled.

Brace picked up his beer again, but slammed it back down on the bar, spilling some of the contents. "No, I mean while I was doing the job. You did nothing. If you'd done the planning, we'd both be in jail. If you are so good, Steve, what the hell do you need me for? Go out on your own if you want to, but I'm done. I'm going to square things with the police. I'll keep you out of it. That's the best I can do for you. I suggest you find something else to do for a living. You won't make it alone. You don't have the skills or the smarts to pull it off. What's the matter? Our former employers won't hire you without me? So, you want to drag me back into it. It won't work. Perry Mason is handling this for me. He's the best in the business."

"What about my house?"

"That's your problem. You made the same amount I did. Why then, are you not in the same financial position I am? I'll tell you why. You spent it on women and gambling. That's why. Now, you want me to continue carrying you. Well, Steve, I'm tired of carrying you. If you want to continue, find another partner. Leave me alone." Jack went back to sipping his beer.

"You call me stupid. Do you really think it's that easy? Fine, you go ahead and quit. I have another partner. You know him, Jack. In fact, you know him really well. He's good too. He'll be as good as you, if not better." Steve pulled out his phone and began playing the video of Tommy stealing the necklace his girlfriend wore to their prom. "There's my new partner. You see, Jack, I'm not as stupid as you think. I'm one step ahead of you. You'll either come back, or Tommy is my new partner. If he refuses, then I turned that video over to the police, anonymously of course."

Jack's temper flared. He grabbed Steve by the throat. "You son-of-a-bitch! You stay away from my son, you hear me. You go near him again, or if you use that video, I'll kill you, you hear me? I'll kill you! You're done, Edwards. We're done. Now get away from me or I'll kill you right now!"

The bartender stepped over to the feuding men. Grabbing Jack's hands, he pulled them off Steve's throat. "That's it, gentlemen. Take it outside or I'll call the police."

Brace calmed down. "That won't be necessary. Sorry, Aaron. There won't be any more trouble. I'm leaving." He turned and looked back at Steve. "You heard me, Edwards. I meant it." Jack left the bar without saying another word.

Steve ordered a beer. He had to think about what his next step would be. It was clear Jack wouldn't cooperate. That meant he would have to go after the kid. He'd force him into becoming his partner. The stupid kid would try to protect his father. One or the other was going to work with him. He wasn't losing everything he had. This was all Jack's fault.

2

The skies were threatening to open up and dump a ton of rain on Los Angeles. Although, Perry didn't relish traveling in the rain, he knew the city needed it. It'd been over a month since any rain had fallen on the city. Going that long without rain this time of the year could mean fires. Every year California had to deal with them. Many homes were destroyed as a result. Therefore, he wouldn't complain about the rain if it fell.

Mason pulled an umbrella from the glove compartment of his car and handed it to Della. "Just in case," he said with a smile. They headed into the city building. He didn't have an appointment, but he was going to see if he could get in the councilman's office. Something had come to his attention which pertained to the Brace case, and he had every intention of checking it out. He only wished the expert he had called to join him and Della had been available. He would have to rely on his own knowledge of the art world. Although Mason loved art, he didn't hesitate to admit that he was no expert.

They entered the City building and headed for the office of Councilman Donald Fredendall. Each member of the City Council was given an office in the building. Perry always thought it was a waste of money. What did the council members do besides show up at the meetings once a month. Couldn't the offices be put to better use? He thought so, but apparently the mayor didn't. He was the one who proposed each member have an office in the building. To Mason's knowledge, those offices remained locked and empty most of the time. Many of the members had daytime jobs and rarely used the office assigned to them.

Perry took Della's elbow and guided her down the hall to Fredendall's office. He was one of the members of the council who used the office assigned to him. As a retired real estate agent, he had acquired quite a lot of money over the years. Fredendall devoted his entire time to the workings of the City Council. He was known to be in his office every day like clockwork.

When they arrived at his office, Mason rapped his knuckles on the door. No one answered. "Perhaps what we heard about him always being in wasn't true," Della said.

Mason tried the door knob. It turned easily and he opened the door. Looking at Della, he said, "He must be in the building if his office is unlocked. Let's go in and wait. Mason stepped back to allow Della to enter in front of him. He stepped inside and shut the door.

"Shouldn't you leave that open until he comes back?" Della asked.

"I want to take a look around and I don't want to be observed doing it. Listen at the door for anyone approaching, Della."

"You're going to snoop, aren't you?" she said with a coy smile.

Mason grinned. "I don't snoop, I just well, okay, I am going to snoop." He walked over to a painting on the wall. It was a landscape with the caption, "Country Colors." The lawyer studied it for the longest time. Something was familiar about it. He couldn't put his finger on it. One thing was for sure, Perry was certain he'd seen it before. "Della, does this painting look familiar to you?"

"I thought you wanted me to listen at the door."

"I do, but come here for a minute and tell me if you have seen this painting before?" he insisted.

Della left her post, walked over to where Perry was studying the painting, and began her own scrutiny of the work. After a moment, she said, "We certainly have seen it before. It is a copy of a painting we saw in an art gallery in Paris. Remember, the case you handled over there . . . "

Mason interrupted her. "Of course! I wanted to buy it, but they said it was not for sale. The owner of the gallery said the painting had been sold for 6 million dollars."

"Obviously, Mister Fredendall liked it well enough to have it copied," Della said.

Mason continued to study the painting. After a few minutes, he said, "I'd bet an entire year's salary that this isn't a copy, Della."

"What makes you say that? There's no way Donald Fredendall could afford this painting. He made a good living selling real estate, but unless he's been skimming money from the city of Los Angeles, he would've had to spend everything he made over the years."

"And more," Mason said. "He's worth about 5 million. He couldn't even purchase this with all the money he has in the bank."

"Then it's probably fake," Della suggested.

"That's just it, Della, I think it's authentic."

"But, how could that be?" she asked.

Mason ran his fingers over the painting. "Feel it. Either someone painted an exact copy or this painting is real."

"How can you find out, Perry?"

"I have an expert who will look at it for me. I found out what I came for. Let's get out of here before Fredendall comes back. I thought we'd run into him since his office would only be unlocked if he were here. We got a break. Fredendall won't know we are here. He might have become suspicious if I checked out that painting. Now, he'll never know it."

Perry and Della left the office, and Mason quietly closed the door. Heading down the hall, neither of them saw Donald Fredendall concealed behind the wall of the cross hall.

3

Tommy Brace stepped out of his parent's home. He'd been working hard, and he wanted to meet a couple friends for a bit of relaxation. He felt better about the situation with his father since he'd talked to Perry Mason. Tommy was confident Mason would protect the interest of both him and his father.

Looking up, he could see the full moon. It was huge and lit up the sky. The young man smiled when he thought about the sight. Tommy loved the old werewolf movies. If they really existed, the werewolf would be out in force tonight. He chuckled at the thought.

The leaves on the trees were still. No wind was blowing. Tommy was actually surprised he could see the moon. It'd been overcast all day with small burst of rain; nothing that would relieve the dryness that threatened possible fires. As he reached his car, Steve Edwards approached him.

Edwards opened the passenger door of the Corvette and got inside. "Get in, Tommy. You and I are going to have a little talk."

Tommy stood there for a moment trying to decide what to do. He had squared things with Perry Mason. The young man didn't want anything to do with Steve Edwards. He supposed talking to him wouldn't hurt. Tommy decided to make it clear to him that he'd no intention of working with him. He opened the car door and slid behind the wheel.

Starting the engine, he pulled the Corvette into the street. "I've plans for tonight, Steve. So say what you came to say."

Edwards looked out the window watching the houses as they passed them. He never realized what an upscale neighborhood Jack Brace lived in. It was certainly far nicer than the one he lived in, which wouldn't be for long if he didn't get one of these two to join him in the jobs he had planned. "I've plenty to say and you're going to listen." He reached over and shut off the radio, which was blaring the rock music station Tommy always listened to.

"Look, Steve. I appreciate the offer of working with you, but I'm not interested in stealing for a living. I've decided that I'm going back to school. I'll take general courses for now until I decide what I want to do with my life."

Steve Edwards put his head back and laughed. "You just don't get it, do you, Tommy? You don't have a choice in the manner. Do you have any idea how much money I lost because you didn't go ahead with that last job?" Steve didn't tell him that he was there and spotted Mason and Drake.

"I couldn't. Perry Mason showed up with his private detective. Drake stopped me as I was picking the lock to the back door."

"I don't give a damn about your excuses. You cost me a lot of money. In fact, you and your father are costing me money I can't afford to lose. He won't listen to me, but you're going to." Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He located the video he was looking for and played the one he took the night Tommy stole the necklace his girlfriend wore to the prom. Edwards pushed the phone toward the boy, so he could see what his phone was playing. When Tommy saw what it was, he slammed on the brakes of his car, bringing it to an abrupt halt. "Why, you son-of-a-bitch! You recorded that?"

"I thought it might come in handy later on." He grinned before continuing. "I was right. Now, you're going to listen and listen closely, if you know what's good for you."

"I'm not working with you, Steve. Perry Mason . . . "

"I don't give a damn what Perry Mason says. He can't protect you. Not from this. You'll start working with me. If you don't, I'm turning that video over to the police."

"I don't care, go right ahead! I'll take my chances with Mason," Tommy shouted back.

"No, you won't because I made an appointment with Hamilton Burger, you know, the district attorney. I'm going to tell him all about your father. You see, Tommy, if I'm going to lose everything, so are you and your father."

Tommy was seething. He thought Perry Mason could take care of all this. Certainly, Mason wanted to help him and his father, but it was becoming apparent he couldn't, not as long as Steve Edwards was alive. "All right, you aren't giving me a choice."

"That's right, Tommy, I'm not."

"Get out of my car, Steve. There's nothing further to say right now."

"Oh yes there is. We're going on a little job. You cost me a bundle, and now you're going to make up for it. So, just keep driving this expensive little toy of yours, and I'll tell you where to go."

Tommy had no choice. He had to protect his father; at least until Perry Mason made a deal for him. He allowed Steve to direct him to a very wealthy area of Los Angeles. The mansion was all alone at the end of the street; the same one he was at when Drake and Mason showed up. It had a ten-foot gate around it. Tommy could barely see the mansion in the background. There weren't any lights on anywhere that he could see. Why did rich people leave their property so dark, making it easier for thieves to move around unseen?

Steve could tell what Tommy was thinking. He laughed. "The people are out of town. I made a deal with the guy who's looking after the property. He turned out all the lights and the alarm system. We'll have to give him a cut . . . your cut. That'll be your punishment for not going through with the last job. Understand one thing, Tommy, when I assign you a job, you finish it. If you don't, there will be consequences. Got it?"

Tommy didn't know what to do. He didn't want to do this. Mason had promised him he wouldn't have to. Where were Drake's men? They had been following him. Why weren't they now? Tommy had to protect his father.

How could his Dad choose this slime for a partner? He had to figure a way out of it. If he went through with it, it was just more ammo Edwards would have against him. Maybe he should just beat the hell out of him and tell him there would be more where that came from if he didn't back off.

Tommy continued to drive in silence. He'd take care of Steve Edwards as soon as they got to their destination.

4

Paul Drake was in his office working the phones. He had several cases going right now and his men were spread thin. No matter how many clients he was working for, he always gave Perry Mason his full attention. He came ahead of all other clients.

There was a soggy hamburger sitting on the corner of his desk. He hadn't had time to eat it. It'd not only be soggy, but it'd also be cold by now. He had men reporting in left and right. Drake answered the calls and issued orders.

"Mister Drake, George is on "the" line," his phone operator said over the intercom.

Whenever she said "the" line, Paul knew that it was the line dedicated to whatever case Perry had going at the time. He quickly punched the line and barked into it, "Yes, George, what is it?"

"Mister Drake, I'm sorry, but I lost the kid."

Drake sat forward in his chair. "What do you mean you lost him?"

"He came out of the house. Edwards got into his car. I don't think he was welcome. They seemed to be arguing a bit. Anyway, the kid finally got in and drove away."

"Well, you followed him, didn't you?" Drake asked in frustration.

"I was going to, but someone sliced the back tire of my vehicle when I went down to the store for a coffee. I didn't notice it until I tried to pull away from the curb. When I checked it, it'd been clearly sliced with a knife. It was a clean cut. Just enough to make sure the air was leaking steadily."

"All right, George. Change the tire and head up to the hills where the rich people live. I have a feeling Edwards is forcing the kid to do a job."

"You got it, Mister Drake"

Paul hung up the phone, dropped what he was doing, and left his office in a hurry. Sprinting down the hall, he arrived at Perry Mason's private entrance. He used his knuckles to sound his code knock on the door. He didn't wait long. The door opened to a smiling Della Street. Paul returned the smile. "Hello, Beautiful. I need to talk to Perry."

"Come on in, Paul," Mason called out.

Drake entered the office. Perry Mason was sitting behind his desk. He looked up at his private eye. "Do you have something for me?"

"I do, but it's not good." He noticed the expression on Mason's face turn into a frown. "My guy lost the Brace kid."

"What do you mean he lost him? The boy was supposed to be in for the night," Mason said.

"He left the house, and you'll never guess who showed up."

Mason didn't have to guess. He knew. "Steve Edwards."

"That's right."

"And, your man lost them while following him. Where did he lose him?" the lawyer asked.

Paul sat down in the chair in front of Mason's desk. He hated to admit it, though he'd no choice. "In front of the house. Edwards slit his tire with a steady leak."

"That's just great. He's probably forcing Tommy to do a job, using his father against him, no doubt."

"That's what I figure. I sent George up into the hills. It seems to be a favorite of Edwards."

Mason lit up. "I know where he's taking Tommy."

"To the same house you and Paul found him at and stopped him," Della said.

"Della, I may promote you to private detective," Mason laughed. He bounced out of his chair.

"There goes my job," Drake said kidding. "I was afraid you would discover her talents sooner or later."

"Let's go, Paul," Mason said.

Della watched as the two men hurried out of the office.

5

Jack Brace knocked on Tommy's bedroom door. His son didn't answer. After knocking a couple times, he opened the door. Tommy wasn't in the room. He headed back into the kitchen. His wife was sitting at the table eating ice cream and reading a novel. "Have you seen Tommy?"

"He said he was going out with friends," she said, not bothering to look up from her book.

"He wasn't supposed to leave the house," Jack said.

"You can't keep him cooped up in here, Jack. He works hard. He just wants to spend some time with his friends."

"You don't understand."

She finally looked up. "Then why don't you enlighten me. What's going on, Jack?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." Jack Brace turned and left the kitchen, not giving his wife a chance to ask any more questions. He hurried into his study and closed the door. Jack walked around the desk and sat down. He called the Drake Detective Agency. When the phone was answered, he said, "I was given this number to reach Perry Mason after hours. This is Jack Brace. I need to speak with Mister Mason. This is very important."

"I am sorry, but neither Mister Drake nor Mister Mason is here right now. Mister Drake said they were going after Tommy. He said something about your son being forced to do a job with Steve Edwards. I'll put you through to Mister Mason's cell phone if you'd like."

Jack politely declined and hung up. He had to get to Tommy before he helped Edwards break into a house and steal again. But, where? He had no idea where that would be . . . or did he? What had Mason told him? Edwards had forced Tommy to break into a house. He tried to think. Where did Mason tell him the house was located? He stood up and began pacing. Jack rubbed the back of his neck. Why couldn't he remember? Then it hit him. He remembered the area which Mason said he had parked his car. Jack grabbed his keys and ran out of the house without even telling his wife he was leaving.

Brace got in his car and headed for the hills. It was always a favorite target for Steve Edwards. Jack could remember dozens of times Steve would tell him about houses where the owners, usually actors or actresses, were off on location filming some movie. He would head there. If they went in Tommy's car, it'd be easy to spot. If not, he knew what Steve drove. He drove as fast as he dared; not wanting to be pulled over by the police. Jack wanted to find Tommy before he broke into another house.

Steve just never understood the business. These types of jobs were small potatoes. It was the ones they were hired to do that brought in the big money. It wasn't long after he began his partnership with Steve Edwards that he realized the man was nothing but a two-bit hood. If he'd been left to his own devices, he would've been behind bars long ago. Jack thought about dumping him many times, but never went through with it. Edwards was weak. There wasn't any doubt of him being caught and arrested. He would've been broken down under police interrogation, and that meant trouble for Jack. This was his fault entirely. Tommy wouldn't even know Steve Edwards if it weren't for him. He'd have to deal with Edwards once and for all. There wasn't any other choice. Neither he nor Tommy would have any peace until he did. He'd push Mason to make that deal with the district attorney, and he'd burn Edwards. If the jerk had just left him and Tommy alone, Jack would've told them he worked alone. Now, he was going to tell the police all about him.

He turned onto the street Mason had mentioned. Slowing his vehicle, Tommy's Corvette was nowhere in sight. Nor did he see Mason or Drake. They hadn't arrived. It was not surprising since Jack's house was much closer than Mason's office building, which was in the business district of the city. They wouldn't be here for another 10 to 15 minutes. Jack parked his car, having decided to check out the house where Mason and Drake found his son.

He went through the open gate and around the back of the house. The double glass doors were open. The curtains were being drawn outward by the wind. Jack approached quietly. He didn't want to draw the attention of anyone in the neighborhood, although, this mansion was off by itself at the end of a long road. Pushing the curtains out of his way, Jack entered the home. The room was large and round. The walls were covered in books with a ladder that could be slid all the way around to each side of the double glass doors. There was a desk and a filing cabinet to the right of the entrance. To the left was a door Jack presumed led into the rest of the mansion.

One of the shelves of books had been moved forward revealing a safe. The door to the safe was open. Jack walked around the desk. To his shock, there was a body lying face down on the floor. Brace didn't have to turn the man over to know who it was. Steve Edwards was bleeding from a head wound. Beside him was a tire iron. Jack stared in horror as he saw the initials that were scratched into the crow bar "JAB." It was his tire iron. He reached down and checked Edward's pulse. There wasn't any.

"Oh my God! Tommy!" Jack reached for the tire iron, then pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket. He wiped the handkerchief up and down the tire iron, making sure there were no finger prints on it and set it back down. No! That wouldn't work. His initials were on the tire iron. He picked it back up and headed for the door. Just as he reached it, Perry Mason and Paul Drake walked in. Drake hurried over to the body on the floor. After checking the pulse in the man's neck, Paul turned and looked at Mason. He shook his head.

Jack could see Mason looking at the tire iron in his hand. "I didn't do it. I didn't kill him, Mister Mason."

"Didn't kill who?"

Mason turned to see Lieutenant Tragg standing in the doorway. "Well, Perry, I see you and Drake have discovered another dead body, or is he still alive."

"No, he's dead," Drake said.

"What are you doing here, Lieutenant?" Mason asked.

"Saving you the trouble of reporting the dead body. We got a call about a homicide committed here. I see the caller was correct. By the way, what are you doing here?"

Mason remained quiet.

"That's what I thought." He looked at the tire iron in Jack Brace's hand. There were still traces of blood on the end of it. The handkerchief in his hand was covered in blood. "You weren't by any chance removing the murder weapon from the scene, were you, Mister Brace."

Brace realized he was still holding the tire iron. He looked back at Tragg and said, "But, I didn't kill him."

"Right, you were just bringing the murder weapon to us like a good citizen."

"Look, Lieutenant . . . " Mason began.

"Stay out of it, Perry." Turning his attention back to Jack, he said, "You're under arrest for the murder of Steve Edwards."


	9. Chapter 9

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 9

1

The drive to police headquarters was silent. Paul kept quiet. He knew when to leave Perry to his thoughts. The two men had worked together for many years, and knew each other well. Mason was concerned and he had a right to be. It looked bad and Paul knew it. If he knew it, than so did Perry.

Mason reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. After dialing his office, he waited for Della to answer.

"Perry Mason's office."

"Della, you may as well go home. I'll meet you there in a bit," Mason told her.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Perry knew exactly why. For as well as Paul knew him, Della knew him even better. She would've detected the concern in his voice.

"What is it, Perry? What's going on?" Della demanded.

Mason told her what happened. She remained quiet and didn't ask any questions until he was finished with his narrative.

"Do you think he did it?" Della asked.

"I don't know yet. He certainly acted like a guilty man, but he could be covering for his son."

"Then, it's possible Tommy killed him?"

"He had motive. I doubt if he did it though. I think it is more likely that Jack Brace thinks Tommy killed him, and he would rather go to prison than allow Tommy to."

"Where are you now?" Della asked.

"I'm with Paul. We're headed to Police Headquarters. I want to make sure Jack Brace doesn't make things harder for us than they already are. So, go back to my apartment, Della. I'll be home as soon as I talk to Brace."

"All right, Perry. Do you need anything?" she asked, knowing his mood was low.

Mason smiled. "Just you."

"Well, you have that. I'll see you in a bit." The phone went dead.

Perry Mason pulled the Cadillac to a stop in front of the LAPD Headquarters. Shutting off the engine, he got out of the vehicle. Drake was already out of the car and standing on the other side. He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to make sure the flame was out. Mason still had his in his mouth as he approached him. Paul pointed at the cigarette. Mason then dropped it next to the one Drake had previously dropped. He stepped on it, grounded his foot on it, and the two men crossed the street to the front door of the precinct. Mason opened the door and they entered.

They were met by Sergeant Holcomb. He put his hand on Mason's chest to keep him from going any further. "Lieutenant Tragg wants you to wait out here."

"I want to see my client now," Mason said forcefully.

"Well, I don't much care what you want, Mason, and neither does the lieutenant. You'll wait here just like he said."

"You tell Tragg that he better not be questioning my client without me present."

"Tell him yourself, Mason. I'm not your messenger boy," Holcomb snarled.

"No, that is reserved for Lieutenant Tragg," Paul said sarcastically.

Holcomb, who had no love loss for either man took a step toward Drake. Mason immediately stepped between them. The sergeant laughed. "And apparently Mason is your messenger boy. Sit down. It could be a while." He went over and stood in front of the door that led back to the interrogation rooms.

"Perry, I'm betting Tragg is questioning your client right now," Paul said.

Watching Holcomb out of the corner of his eye, Mason responded, "I just hope Brace has enough sense to say nothing and demand his lawyer."

"Huh, I wouldn't count on it."

"Unfortunately, neither would I," Mason said dryly.

2

Jack Brace sat at the table with his hands cuffed. He couldn't believe what was happening. He knew what he had to do. He'd do it for his son. The boy deserved a chance in life, and Jack would make sure he got it.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Lieutenant Tragg walked in. The veteran police detective quickly moved over to the table on the opposite side that Jack was sitting. Tragg sat down and looked into the eyes of his prisoner.

Brace could tell that the lieutenant was attempting to intimidate him. What he didn't realize was that Jack was going to give him everything he wanted. The only thing that mattered at this point was Tommy.

The door opened once again, and a uniformed police officer walked in with a pitcher of water and a glass. He placed it on the table in front of Jack Brace. Lieutenant Tragg reached over, picked up the pitcher, and poured water into the glass. He pushed it in front of Jack.

"You're entitled to have an attorney present while being questioned," the detective told him. "However, we must tell you that lawyering up is the epitome of a guilty man. If you have nothing to hide, then I recommend that you talk to me. So, what will it be? Are you going to talk to me, or do you want your lawyer in the room?"

Jack did not hesitate for even a second. "I'll talk to you."

Lieutenant Tragg smiled at him. He actually wasn't expecting that response. He fully expected to call Mason into the room. He didn't even have to use any pressure or incentives to get the man to talk. "All right then, why don't you tell me what happened."

"It's simple, I killed Steve Edwards. He was trying to get my son involved in burglaries. I couldn't allow that. I met him in a bar and warned him away from Tommy. He wouldn't listen. I found out that he was sending the boy to do a job. I simply got there ahead of him. Edwards was waiting for my son to show up. We argued. I picked up the crowbar and I hit him when he wasn't looking. That's all there was to it."

Arthur Tragg couldn't believe his ears. He had a full confession. Hamilton Burger was going to be giddy over this one. He got up and walked over to the door. Jack watched as he stepped outside momentarily and spoke to an officer. Within a few minutes, another officer brought in a pad of paper and an ink pen. Tragg took it over to the table and set it down in front of him.

"We will need you to write down what you just told me, then sign and date it at the bottom."

Jack nodded, picked up the pen, and began writing. Within a few minutes, he had his entire confession written down and his signature at the bottom of the page. He pushed it toward the lieutenant. "Now what?"

"Would you like to see your attorney now?" Lieutenant Tragg asked him.

Jack shrugged. "I guess so. Not that it will do any good now."

"Mason will look out for your interests. I'm sure he will plea bargain your case with the district attorney." The lieutenant left the interrogation room and headed for the lobby where he knew Mason would be waiting impatiently, if not angrily.

As soon as he entered the room, Perry Mason stood up. Tragg had not been wrong about Mason's mood. The attorney looked like he was ready to explode.

"Well, hello Perry. I've been expecting you." The lieutenant had a big smile on his face. This time he was certain he had bested Los Angeles' most effective criminal attorney.

"Tragg, if you interrogated my client without me there, I will file a suit against the Los Angeles Police Department," Mason said angrily. "I want to see my client now," he said with emphasis on the word now.

"With extraordinary politeness, the lieutenant bowed and said, "Why of course. You can see your client now and for as long as you need to speak with him."

Mason looked back at Paul Drake. "Wait here, Paul. I will have work for you to do when I am finished here." He turned immediately and followed Lieutenant Tragg back to the interrogation rooms.

Mason was worried about what Tragg had done. He was entirely too happy-go-lucky. Tragg open the door to the room where Jack Brace was waiting. Mason stepped inside, went over to the table, and sat down opposite his client.

"You boys have a nice chat now." With a smile on his face, the lieutenant left the room and closed the door.

Mason studied his client, who was refusing to look him in the eye. Something was terribly wrong, that was obvious. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him everything."

"And, I told you not to say anything without me being present."

"Your presence wasn't required. It didn't matter." Jack still hadn't looked his lawyer in the eye.

"It matters a great deal. Whatever you said, they will use it against you in court."

Brace picked up the glass of water in front of him and drank its entire contents. "It doesn't matter, Mister Mason, because I killed Steve Edwards. I killed him in cold blood. He deserved to die."

"You told me at the scene that you didn't kill him."

"I lied."

Mason began scrutinizing his client more closely. The man was lying all right, and he knew why. "Trying to be a hero will get you the death penalty. You're attempting to protect your son. You think he killed Steve Edwards, don't you?"

"No, I don't think that at all. I know better since I'm the one that killed him."

Mason shook his head. "You should have said nothing and left everything to me. You should have trusted me. Now, you have made it nearly impossible to get you out of this mess."

"I don't want out of it. I did it and I'm willing to pay for what I did."

"I don't believe that. You didn't kill him, you're just trying to protect your son. Has it even occurred to you he's not guilty either? You should've said nothing and waited until I got here."

"Lieutenant Tragg said you can plea bargain with the district attorney. What does that mean? Does it mean I'll serve less years?"

Mason was trying to keep from showing his frustration with his client. He didn't believe that he killed Steve Edwards. Nor did he believe that Tommy did it. Now, Mason had a bigger mess to sort out because of Jack's confession. "We're not plea bargaining. You're not guilty, and I intend to prove it."

Clearly agitated, Jack snarled at his attorney, "You'll do what I want you to do or I'll get another attorney."

Mason stood up. "Then get yourself another attorney because I'll not be responsible for sending you to your death. Hamilton Burger isn't going to plea bargain this case. He thinks he has me beat and he's going to ask for the death penalty."

"Then you will not try to plea bargain?" Jack asked.

"No, I won't. I told you Hamilton Burger is not going to allow you to cop a plea."

"Then, you're fired, Mason."

Perry Mason looked his ex-client in the eye before standing up and heading for the door. "You're making a mistake. I'll not make it with you." He walked out of the interrogation room and joined Paul Drake in the lobby.

The private detective waited until they were outside Police Headquarters before he questioned his friend. "Well, how'd it go?"

"Tragg got him to confess to Edwards' murder."

Stunned at that revelation, Paul grabbed Perry's arm and stopped his forward motion. "You mean he brow beat a confession out of your client?"

Mason shook his head and then looked directly at Drake. "No, my client gave him that confession willingly. He's trying to protect his son."

"Then will you try to plea-bargain?" Paul asked him.

"Burger is not going to plea bargain this case, Paul. He thinks he has me beat. Take my word for it, he's going to ask for the death penalty."

"Did you tell your client that?"

"Of course I did. He insisted I try to plea bargain. I told him I wouldn't plea bargain an innocent man," Mason said as the two men walked across the street to the lawyer's Cadillac.

"What did he say to that?"

"He fired me," Perry said. "He's going to get another attorney."

Drake walked around the vehicle and opened the door after Mason unlocked the Cadillac. "Well, I guess that's it then." He slid into the passenger seat.

After getting behind the wheel, Perry started the Cadillac and moved the vehicle into the street. He said nothing further. Paul, sensing the lawyer was thinking about his next move, decided to try to head off what he figured Perry was going to do. "You're not thinking of continuing the investigation, are you Perry?"

"He didn't do it, Paul. He thinks Tommy did it. He is trying to protect him."

"I know, you said that. But, have you considered that he actually did do it? Good grief, Perry, he certainly had motive, opportunity, and he had the crowbar in his hand standing over the dead body."

"He had the crowbar because he was going to remove it. I'd bet a year's salary on that. He was going to remove what he believed was evidence that Tommy killed Steve Edwards. He didn't kill him. I'm sure of it," Mason insisted.

"Well, it doesn't matter now whether he did it or not. You're off the case." Paul pulled out his cigarettes from his pocket. He offered one to Mason.

"I thought you weren't going to give me anymore because of Della."

"I'm making an exception. You need one right now because if I read you right, you aren't going to let this go," Paul said wearily.

"I can't. He's not guilty. I have to protect him against himself.

"Perry, may I remind you that he fired you. You don't have anyone to pay the bill any longer. If you have me continue the investigation, the bill will come out of your own pocket."

"I have to protect my client," Mason insisted.

"He's not your client. He fired you," Drake said with frustration.

"I don't accept that. I want you to check out Steve Edwards thoroughly. Find out everything you can about him. I want to know who else had a motive to kill him."

Drake shook his head. "All right, but once he has another attorney, you are going to get yourself in trouble. He isn't going to tolerate you messing with his case."

"Let me worry about that. Just check out Edwards, and I do mean check him out. I want to know everything right down to his wisdom teeth."

3

Lieutenant Tragg knocked on the door of Hamilton Burger's private entrance. He saw lights come on in the house. The district attorney peaked out through the blinds. Burger let go, unlocked the door, and opened it. "Arthur, what are you doing here at this hour?"

Tragg grinned. "Do I have news for you!"

Hamilton hesitated. He looked down at his robe. "Can't it wait until morning? You can come to my office first thing."

"No, this can't wait. "Come on, Burger, open the door," Tragg said, attempting to push the door open far enough so he could enter.

"Well, alright, but keep it down. My wife is sleeping."

"I promise I'll be as quiet as a church mouse." Tragg then pushed the door open and entered.

"Follow me. We can go into the study. It's about as far from the bedroom as you can get in this house," Burger said.

"You talk like I've never been here before. I know the layout of your house."

Hamilton ignored his remark and led him to his study. After they entered, Burger closed the door and took a seat behind his desk. He motioned for Tragg to sit down in front of it. When he did, the city's district attorney inquired, "Now, tell me what this is all about."

"You want to beat Mason, don't you?" Tragg said with a smirk.

"Who doesn't? Every district attorney in this country dreams of beating Perry Mason."

"Well, now's your chance. I got it, Hamilton!"

Confused, Burger said, "Got what? What are you talking about?" Hamilton was tired and he had to be up early in the morning for court.

"A confession from Mason's client," Tragg answered.

"What client? Come on, Arthur, make sense, will you?"

"Jack Brace. Steve Edwards was murdered tonight. We found Brace at the scene with a crowbar which I am sure is the murder weapon. I took him in on suspicion of murder. Mason followed us in, but I got to interrogate Brace before Mason got there."

With a worried look, Hamilton said, "You didn't force that confession or deprive him of having Mason there while you were questioning him, did you?"

"Of course not. I simply told Brace if he had nothing to hide, he should talk to me rather than hide behind Mason. Then he just blurted out that he killed him."

Burger's mood changed. A grin appeared on his face. "We've got him this time." He clapped his hands together. "Finally, a slam-dunk winner!"

"Mason's going to want to plea bargain, Hamilton. With all the information Brace has on the items he stole over the years, he will try to force you to give him a lighter sentence."

"On murder? Not a chance. I'll be asking for the death penalty, and nothing less," Burger said. "Are you sure this confession can't be challenged by Mason?"

"No way. Brace offered it of his own free will. It is signed and dated," Tragg said with a grin.

Burger grinned back at him. "I have waited a long time for this case. I'm going to handle it myself. No deputy district attorney is going to get the credit for being the first to beat Mason. I'm going to be the one to do that."

"It sure does feel good, doesn't it? Finally, a case Mason can't win!"

Burger's expression darkened. Suddenly, he wondered if there was any such thing . . . a case Mason couldn't win. Then he began smiling again. What was he worried about? Mason was not infallible, no one was. Sooner or later, he had to lose. Well, it may have been later, but lose he would! This was a slam-dunk winner.

4

Perry Mason entered the parking garage at his apartment building. He hoped Della had done what he'd instructed and gone home. Otherwise, he'd have to go back to the office and pick her up. Pulling into his assigned parking spot, he shut off the engine of his Cadillac and got out of the car. Heading for the door, Sergeant Holcomb stepped out of the shadows.

"Hello, Mason. I've been waiting for you."

Mason looked up. He hadn't even noticed the man standing there. "Sergeant," he acknowledged. "What are you doing here?"

"I could not resist being the first one to congratulate you on losing your first case."

"What case? I haven't lost a case," Perry said. He was quickly becoming irritated with the police detective.

"The Brace case. You've lost this one before you even begun." Holcomb grinned.

"Is that right?"

"That's right, Mason. I hear your client confessed. You, of course, don't believe he killed the man, so you'll plead him not guilty. Burger's not going to plea bargain. He's going to want the death penalty. So, all that information Brace has on the jobs he did, well, they won't help you at all. I intend to be in court as much as possible. I'll be there when the jury says, 'Guilty.' I can't wait, Mason."

"I'm afraid, Sergeant, you are going to have to wait a while longer. I'm not Brace's attorney. He's opted to find a new attorney." Mason pushed his way past Holcomb and put his key in the lock to disengage it.

"Coward," Holcomb said.

Perry turned. "What'd you say?"

"I said coward. The first time the case is too tough for you, you tuck your tail between your legs and run."

Mason was not about to let Holcomb get to him. "I am afraid you have it all wrong, Sergeant. First of all, I don't have a tail. Second, I wanted my client to plead not guilty because he's innocent. He had other ideas. I didn't abandon him, he terminated by services. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get inside. Good night, Sergeant."

"You mean get inside to Della Street. Everyone knows you're sleeping together." Holcomb had a grin on his face. "I still can't figure out what a looker like that sees in a shyster like you."

Holcomb was baiting him. However, he was wasting his time. Perry hadn't any intention of taking the bait. He just wanted to get inside to Della. He opened the door and entered the building. Glancing back at Holcomb, he could see the disappointed look on his face. He took the long walk down the hall to the elevator, pressed the number to his floor, and got in when the doors opened. Perry got out on his floor and headed straight for his apartment. When he arrived, he unlocked the door and went in.

Della was sound asleep on the couch. He smiled at the peaceful look on her face. Perry hated to wake her, but he had no desire to sleep alone. Walking over to his sleeping secretary, he squatted down and brushed his hand down her cheek. He was so lucky to have this woman in his life.

Her eyes fluttered open. When she saw him, she smiled. She checked her watch and said, "It is about time you got home, Mister Mason." When she saw the look on his face, she knew something was wrong. "Perry, what is it?"

Mason got up as Della returned to a sitting position. He sat down beside her, put his arm around her and pulled her tight to him. He told her the events of the evening.

"That is too bad. I will send him a bill in the morning and return the rest of his retainer."

"No, Della. I don't want you to do that just yet. I'm having Paul look into this further."

Surprised, Della said, "But, Perry, you don't have a client."

"I don't believe for one second that the man is guilty. Della, he is covering up for his son."

"Then you think the son did it?"

"No, I don't believe either one of them did it. That's why I'm having Paul look into it."

Della who was always looking after Perry's practice pointed out, "There isn't anyone to pay Paul's bill. You will have to pay it if you continue with this case without a client."

"I'm aware of that. First of all I want to find out if Tragg coerced him into making a confession. Then, we have to find the real killer in order to help Brace and his son."

"I don't understand. He terminated your services. He'll have to pay the consequences of that decision. Why should you spend your own money to help him when he's fired you?"

"My gut tells me they are both innocent. As of right now, I still have his retainer. Therefore, he's still my client. I believe when he starts thinking about the decision he's made, he'll change his mind. In the meantime, we're not going to lose time by sitting around and doing nothing."

Della tipped her head to the side. "Well, you're the boss."

Perry smiled. He took her by the hand and pulled her up with him as he stood up. "And, the boss says it's time for bed."

"It's about time. Do you know what time it is right now?"

"Not so late that we can't enjoy each other," he said with a grin. He bent down and kissed her passionately.

When they stepped apart, Della suggested, "Why don't we continue this in the other room?

Mason put his arm around her waist and led her toward the bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 10

1

When Perry Mason awakened the next morning, he found himself alone. Della Street was nowhere to be seen. He threw the covers back and sat up. He couldn't believe how things could sometimes turn on a dime. It was only yesterday he thought he would be able to get a deal with the district attorney for Jack Brace. Now, his client was facing a murder rap. Furthermore, it was obvious he wasn't going to cooperate with his attorney. Mason didn't believe that Jack or his son killed Steve Edwards. Yet, Jack obviously did think his son was the culprit. He supposed to couldn't blame him, the boy certainly had plenty of motive.

Mason headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower head. After checking the temperature, he stepped into the warm water and allowed it to beat down on him. This case was going to be difficult, and he knew it. It would be nice, if once in awhile, his clients would trust him. It wasn't necessary for Jack Brace to cover for his son. If the boy had been the one to be charged with murder, Mason would have been more than willing to represent him.

When he completed his shower, he got out, dried himself, shaved, combed his hair, and headed back into the bedroom. Mason sniffed the air. He did not smell breakfast cooking. Usually, if Della got up and left the room, she was cooking breakfast. He wondered where she was.

As usual, she had set out a suit, shirt, tie, socks, underwear, and shoes. Mason quickly got dressed and left the bedroom.

Della was not in the kitchen. He noticed a note on the table. Mason picked it up and read it. He'd forgotten that she had an early hair appointment. Despite the appointment, he knew she would be in the office on time. That was Della, always on time.

Deciding not to fix himself any breakfast, he picked up his briefcase and left the apartment. Mason drove to his office in silence. He didn't turn on the radio because he wanted to think. He would only be able to take the case if what he had in mind worked. Obviously, he was going to need Paul's help, and need it quickly.

When he arrived at the building, he parked his car and headed for the front door. Taking the elevator, he rode up to the floor where his office was located. Heading directly to the office, the lawyer opened the door and went in.

Sitting at her desk, Gertie was on the phone. When she looked up and saw Mason, she smiled and waved. Perry waved back, continued past her office and into Della's. As he had predicted, Della was at her desk. When he walked in, she stood up and followed him into his private office.

"Paul will be on his way up as soon as I let him know you are in," she told him.

He set his briefcase down on the desk, turn, and smiled. The ever efficient Della Street always seemed to know exactly what he wanted. He sat wearily in the chair behind his desk.

Della could tell he was worried. Then, there was plenty to be worried about. His client confessed to a murder that none of them believed he did. He was expected to plead Jack Brace guilty at the arraignment. Della knew he wouldn't do it. Perry would never plead a client guilty when they were innocent. Jack Brace would probably terminate his services when he refused. She was hopeful that'd stop Perry's involvement in the case. When he took on a client, he went all out for them, even when they fired him.

Della picked up the phone on Mason's desk and dialed. A moment later, she said, "Would you tell Mister Drake that Mister Mason is now in the office." She hung up the phone and informed her boss, "Paul is on his way over."

Moments later Drake's code knock sounded on the door. Della walked over and opened it. A smiling Paul Drake walked in and gave her his customary greeting, "Hello, Beautiful. I hear Perry wants to see me."

"Come on in, Paul," Mason called out.

Drake headed for the overstuffed chair. He sat in the chair sideways, throwing his legs over the arm on one side, with his back up against the arm on the other side. "When's the arraignment?"

"In about an hour," Mason answered.

"I'm not sure why you need me. If you're going to plead him guilty, then this will be a very short process."

"I'm not going to plead him guilty, Paul. I can't, in all good conscience do that. Jack Brace is innocent. He's only trying to cover for his son."

"Perry, I know you don't want to hear this, but it looks like one or the other of them did it. No one else was seen in the area. Both of them were seen by neighbors. So if Tommy didn't do it, then Jack Brace did."

"I don't believe that. I don't believe either one of them is capable of murder."

Paul frowned. "You know fully well that anyone is capable of murder under the right circumstances. Obviously, Steve Edwards pushed both of them to the limit. One of them snapped. End of story."

"I don't believe that."

Drake shook his head in frustration. "It doesn't matter anyway. If you don't go in there and plead him guilty, Perry, he's going to terminate your services."

"Not if I can talk him out of it."

"Look, I know you're great in the courtroom. I've seen it firsthand, but if this guy really is trying to protect his son, nothing you say is going to change anything. You have to understand the bond between a parent and a child."

Della smiled. "Gee, Paul, are you trying to tell us something? Do you have a child hidden somewhere?"

Perry chuckled at the thought of Paul having a hidden child.

"Very funny, Della. No, I don't have a child hidden away somewhere. And, both of you know very well how strong a bond between a child and parent can be. He's going to do everything to protect that kid if he thinks he's guilty. There isn't anything you can do to change that."

"I have to try. in the meantime, I need you to get started."

Drake reached into his pocket and pulled out his small notebook. "I know, I know, find out everything I can about Steve Edwards."

"I also want the people that Jack Brace did business with checked out. Who knows what's Steve Edwards might've done to them? He was trying to blackmail Jack Brace and his son. There just might be a chance that he was trying to blackmail others as well. We have to find someone with a very strong motive to kill Edwards."

"All right, Perry. I'll get started, but what do you want me to do if Brace, does indeed, terminate your services?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Just get started, Paul. Della and I have to get to court."

Drake got up and headed for the door. After grabbing the knob and opening his friend's private entrance door, he glanced back at Mason. He couldn't figure out why he was insisting on taking this case forward, when it was obvious he was about to be terminated. Brace would never keep him on if he refused to change his plea.

Paul caught Della's eye. She looked at him and shrugged. Drake shook his head and left the office.

2

Tommy Brace entered the jail where his father was being held. He walked up to the main desk and addressed the officer in charge.

"Mister Mason got permission for me to see my father. My name is Tommy Brace. My father is . . . "

"Without looking up, the officer growled," I know who your father is. Just a minute, I have to check with my boss to see if it's all right."

The officer left the room. Tommy looked over at the bars that led back to the cells where the prisoners were held. If only he could get past those bars, he'd release his father and the two of them could leave the country. Tommy knew his dad was not capable of murder. However, if they tried to convict him, Tommy would take the blame. They'd have no choice but to believe him since he was also seen at the scene of the murder.

A few minutes later the officer returned. "Come on, you're cleared by your lawyer to see him."

Tommy followed the officer into the back. He was led to an interrogation room. The officer unlock the door and allowed the young man to enter. Sitting at the table, his father smiled and stood up when he saw his son.

"Tommy, you didn't have to come. I'm okay."

Tommy walked around the table, put his arms around his father, and embraced him for several seconds before letting go. "I know you didn't do it."

"I know that you know, but don't you worry, I am not going to let them send you to jail," Jack told him.

Tommy took a couple steps back. He realized what his father was saying. He thought Tommy was the one who killed Steve Edwards. He really couldn't blame him for thinking that. Tommy certainly thought about it. Somehow, his father knew he'd been at the house where Steve Edwards was murdered.

"You think I killed him?" Tommy asked him.

The look on his father's face was telling. There wasn't any doubt that was exactly what he thought.

"I'm not going to let you go to jail. I've already confessed to the murder."

Tommy couldn't believe it! "Why would you confess to a murder you didn't commit? I don't believe this. In other words, you're in this mess because of me. Because you think I killed him. Dad, I didn't do it. I didn't kill Steve. You've confessed for nothing."

Jack stood there with an incredulous look on his face. He'd been certain Tommy had been the one who had murdered Steve. Not that he didn't deserve it; he certainly did, but his son stood before him claiming not to have been the one who did it.

Did it really matter whether Tommy did it or not? If the police didn't have someone to hang the rap on, they'd turn to Tommy as their next suspect. Jack had to protect his son. He simply couldn't let him go to jail, especially for something he didn't do. He'd have to convince Tommy that he did do it. Otherwise, the land wouldn't leave him alone and would insist that he plead not guilty.

"Dad, you have to call Perry Mason. You have to tell him you only confessed because you thought I did it. You have to allow him to get you out of this mess." When it seemed his father wasn't listening, Tommy grabbed him by the arm. "Did you hear me? You have to call Mister Mason."

Jack smiled. "It's going to be all right, Tommy. I have enough money put away for both you and your mother. After I go to prison, the two of you will do just fine. There won't be any financial problems."

The boy became agitated. "Stop it! Just stop it! A minute ago you thought I killed Steve Edwards. That's why you are here."

Jack turned away from his son. He couldn't let him see the look on his face or the tears in his eyes. He'd protect the boy whether he liked it or not. "I think you've misunderstood," Jack told him. "I didn't think for one second that you killed Edwards. In fact, I know you didn't because I did."

"Don't give me that, Dad. I'm not stupid. You didn't kill him. You think I did. You're trying to protect me. I'm telling you, I didn't do it. Stop trying to protect me. Tell Mason you didn't do it. I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself. I don't need you to protect me against something I had nothing to do with."

Jack knew that if he didn't do it, his son had to have done it. No one else was seen in the area according to Lieutenant Tragg. If his confession didn't hold, he was sure that Tragg would arrest Tommy for the murder. He wasn't about to let that happen. "I told you, Tommy, I did it and I'm willing to face the punishment."

"Even if that punishment is the death penalty? Are you willing to throw your life away for something neither one of us did? How can you do that to Mom and me?"

Jack could hear the pleading in his voice. He couldn't listen to it any longer. Afraid of weakening, he had to get Tommy out of here. "It's time for you to leave now." Jack walked over to the door and rapped his knuckles on it. The officer opened it and Jack informed him, "We're finished here."

"Dad, for God's sake, don't do this!" Tommy stood there and watched as his dad left without looking back.

3

Perry Mason and Della Street walk up the steps of the courthouse. Mason let go of Della's elbow, opened the door and allowed Della to enter in front of him. They headed directly for superior court room number two, as they ignored the shouts and questions from the reporters who mobbed them as they arrived.

Their case was the first one to be called. Mason passed the gates and sat down at the defense table. Jack Brace was brought in by the bailiff. He faced Mason, wondering whether he'd remain his attorney and do as he asked, or whether he'd be forced to terminate his services.

"Remember, you must plead me guilty," he told the famed attorney.

Before Perry could say anything, the judge entered the courtroom. As was tradition, everyone in the room stood up.

The bailiff called out, "Superior Court is now in session. The Honorable judge Morgan Archibald presiding."

Judge Archibald took his seat behind the bench an told everyone in the room, "Please be seated. "He ordered, "Call the first case."

"The people versus Jack Brace," Hamilton Burger called out from the prosecution's table.

"What's the charge?"

"Murder in the first degree of Stephen Edwards," Burger stated.

"Is counsel for the defense here?" Archibald asked.

"I am," Mason said.

"Let the record show that Perry Mason is the council for the defense. "How does the defendant plead?"

"Not guilty, Your Honor," Mason said.

Jack Brace exploded in anger. "I told you to plead me guilty. You're my attorney; you have to do what I tell you to do."

"Your Honor, will you give me a moment to confer with my client?"

Stunned at the outbursts from the defendant, Judge Archibald granted Mason's request.

"Listen to me, Jack. I know you didn't commit this murder. I also know that you're simply trying to protect your son. It isn't necessary, your son isn't guilty. Neither one of you killed Steve Edwards. You need to trust me. I already have Paul Drake working on this."

"And you need to do as I ask. Either change my plea or I will terminate your services."

"I can't, in all good conscience, plead an innocent client guilty." Mason looked him straight in the eye to make it completely clear he wouldn't do what Brace required of him.

"Then, Mason, you're fired. I'll get a new attorney." Jack turn to the judge and said, "Judge, what's the process to get a new attorney?"

The room exploded in chatter. This was a scene none of them had experienced before. Nobody fired the famous Perry Mason as their attorney when they were charged with murder.

The judge banged the gavel and said loudly, "Order in the Court! I'll not tolerate disruptions. One more outburst and I'll clear the courtroom."

"Mister Brace, there's no better defense attorney anywhere than Mister Mason. I must advise you not to change attorneys. It's in your best interest to keep Mister Mason as your attorney," the judge told him.

"Don't I have a choice in the matter?" Jack asked. "I want a new attorney."

"Well, if you insist, you can retain a different attorney. I'll delay setting a date for the preliminary hearing until such time you have obtained a new attorney."

Perry Mason picked up his brief case, took Della by the elbow, and left the courtroom with a trail of reporters following him. Burger remained at the table with his jaw opened in shock.

Outside of the courtroom, Mason refused to answer any of the reporters' questions. He opened the passenger side of the vehicle and Della slipped in. Mason walked around the Cadillac and got in. Moving the vehicle slowly to give the reporters time to get out of his way, he pulled the car into the street and sped away.

Della watched him, but kept silent. She knew he was upset. When she could no longer stand the silence, she said, "Perry, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Della. I hate to drop the case, I know he's innocent. But, if I continue, Paul is right; I could get myself in trouble with the new attorney. I just don't know. I suppose I should just be realistic and let it go. Maybe it's just my bruised ego that wants to stay in it."

Della reached over, placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed. She knew him well enough to know it was the best way she could support him. Della felt he made the right decision in dropping the case. She kept her hand on his thigh simply for the physical contact between them. Della had a way of comforting him just with a touch.

They arrived back at the office. Perry opted to enter from the private entrance. He sat down heavily at his desk. Running his hand down his face, he looked out the window. "Della, you'd better call Paul."

She nodded and reached for the phone, but it rang before she had a chance to make the call. Della picked up the receiver and answered, "Yes, Gertie."

"Miss Street, Tommy Brace is here to see Mister Mason. He says it is imperative he talk to him."

"Just a moment, Gertie." Della put her hand over the mouth piece. "Perry, Tommy Brace is here and wants to see you."

Mason hesitated for a moment. He had to tell the boy that he was no longer representing his father, and he didn't want him to read it in the paper or hear it on the news. "Have him come in, Della. I'll talk to him. It's the least I can do."

"Send him in, Gertie," Della told her and hung up the phone. She walked over and opened the door to greet the young man. "Come in, Mister Brace."

Tommy walked past Della and headed directly to Perry Mason. "Mister Mason, you have to help my father."

Mason, who had stood up as Tommy entered, gestured for Tommy to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk. After the boy was seated, he sat back down and delivered the bad news. "Tommy, your father terminated my services in court today. I couldn't plead an innocent man guilty. He wouldn't listen to me. There isn't much I can do at this point."

"I know, I went to see him. He told me he was going to plead guilty. Mister Mason, he thinks I killed Steve Edwards. My father is only trying to protect me. You can't let him do it. You have to stop him."

Mason felt for the boy. He obviously loved his father. Yet, there wasn't a lot he could do about the situation unless . . . his plan worked "I know that. I told him you couldn't have killed him. He wouldn't listen to me. He is determined to plead guilty. Believe me, with the money your father has, some lawyer will be more than happy to do it."

"But, he's not guilty. He didn't do it," Tommy shouted.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. It is out of my hands. I'm not your father's attorney any longer."

The boy's disappointment was showing clearly on his face. Then suddenly it lit up like a Christmas tree. "If you're not representing my father, you are free to represent someone else, aren't you?"

"Why yes, of course," Mason said.

"Then you can represent me, can't you?"

Knowing where Tommy was going with this, he asked, "Do you need a lawyer, Tommy?"

"Yes, Mister Mason. I need someone to represent my interests. I'll need a private investigator to prove I didn't kill Steve Edwards. In the process, he could find out my father didn't do it either."

Mason smiled. "Do you have any money on you, Tommy?"

The lad reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. "I know where my father's stash is. It's a good think he doesn't ever count it. He'd find it a few thousand short." Tommy counted out $5000.00. "Will that be enough for now?"

"That'll be fine. Della, give Tommy a receipt."

Della reached into Mason's desk and removed a receipt book. She wrote out a receipt for the money, signed it and gave it to Tommy Brace.

Tommy grinned. "Thank you, Mister Mason. Please find out who killed Steve Edwards and clear my father . . . I mean clear me." He got up and headed for the door. Turning back, he grinned at the lawyer. "There's more than one way to skin a cat." He frowned. "Stupid expression. Who skins cats?" He shrugged and walked out of Mason's office.

Della looked over at Perry. He looked like the cat that ate the canary. He had gotten his way after all.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" he said with a grin.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in, Gertie," Della said.

Gertie entered the office. "That was fast. I called Tommy Brace just like you told me, Mister Mason, just after you left for court. I didn't tell him who I was. I just suggested he hire you to protect his interests and maybe you would find the real killer in the process."

Della looked at Perry. "Now why didn't you think of that?" she said sarcastically.


	11. Chapter 11

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 11

1

William Adair entered the jail and walked up to the duty desk. I'm William Adair. I'm here to see my client, Jack Brace."

The police officer looked up from his paperwork. "I thought Perry Mason was his attorney."

With a smug look on his face, Adair announced, "He fired Mason. I'm his new attorney."

The smug look disappeared when the police officer remarked, "That's has to be just about one of the dumbest things he ever did. Mason is the best in the business."

"Well, apparently Jack Brace doesn't think so."

"Which proves he's dumb." The officer got up, opened the desk drawer, and pulled out the keys. "Have a seat. I'll go get him and put him in an interrogation room."

Adair waited patiently while Jack Brace was led to a room where they could speak privately. Right now he felt better than he ever had as an attorney. Most of his cases came from the court. He had the misfortune of practicing criminal law in the same city as Perry Mason. Mason got all the high profile cases. If someone was charged with murder, they automatically went to him. Adair knew he was just as good as Mason. He only needed a chance to prove himself. Unfortunately, all he ever got was cases like the one he was about to take on. They amounted to nothing more than plea bargaining for the defendant. Once again, he was second choice, but at least he was taking over for a fired Perry Mason.

Today would be no different from others though. Jack Brace had openly admitted in court that he did actually kill Steve Edwards, so he probably would not be able to go to trial and defend him. Still, plea bargaining with Hamilton Burger was no picnic. He would want the death penalty. That was something Adair could not allow. He wasn't about to have that on his record. If he had to, they would go to court, and he would defend Brace, appealing to the jury's sympathies. He killed the man to protect his family. Brace would certainly get life in prison, which he deserved, but at least he would be alive. Life in prison was better than dying.

"Mister Adair, if you will follow me, I'll take you to see your client." The police officer led the way into the back where the interrogation rooms were located. Using a key that was connected to his belt, he unlocked the door and Adair stepped inside. Jack Brace stood up when he came in.

"Mister Brace, I am William Adair. You called me about defending you?"

"Yes, I did." Jack reached out his hand and Adair shook it. "I am afraid you will not be doing much defending though. I killed Steve Edwards. So, I guess all I need you to do is plead me guilty and get me the best deal you can. I will be willing to give as much information as I can on my former occupation."

Both men sat down. "Yes, I have heard about your former occupation. It just might be the leverage we need to keep you from a lethal dose."

"Okay, so where do we start?" Brace ran his fingers through his hair.

"First of all, am I to understand that you did kill Steve Edwards?"

Nodding his head, Jack answered, "Yes, I killed him."

"And what was your reason for taking such extreme measures?"

"He was trying to drag my son, Tommy into becoming his new partner. I confronted him about it, and he said either I return or Tommy would have to take my place."

"But, how could he enforce that? It's not like he could go to the police."

Tapping his fingers on the table, Jack gave his reasons. "Steve said he would go to the police and offer to turn states evidence against me and everyone we stole from."

"Just as you are offering to do now?"

"That's right. You should know all this. It is all in the police report."

Adair laid his hand on his briefcase. "I know that. I have the police report right here. I want to hear it from you." He hesitated for a moment before asking the next question. He had to know the answer. "Why did you fire Mason? He is generally considered the best there is."

"He refused to plead me guilty. I suppose he figured he could get a lot more money out of me if it went to trial."

Staring into Brace's eyes, he saw something there that just didn't add up. "Mason is known for his generosity when it comes to clients who don't have the money to pay him."

"Yeah, but I have the money to pay him, and he knows it. That's why he wants it to go to court." Brace looked away from Adair.

"I think you misjudged him. He is not that way at all. For some reason, he believes you are not guilty, otherwise he would have plea bargained. Does he have a reason to believe you are innocent of the murder charge?" Adair continued to look him directly in the eye. Something told him Brace was not being honest with him.

"No, I am telling you I did it," Brace said, raising his voice.

Ignoring the sudden agitation his client was suddenly showing, he went on. "You are not trying to protect someone are you? Your son, perhaps?"

"No! I told you I killed him. If you don't believe me, maybe I should get someone else!" Brace was shouting now.

"Take it easy, Mister Brace. I'm just trying to get all the facts. I'll talk with the district attorney and see if I can get him to agree to life in prison rather than the death penalty."

"Good, that's what I want," Jack said.

"If he won't agree, we'll have no choice but to go to trial and play on the sympathies of the jury. We'll play up the fact you were trying to protect your family. Hopefully, we'll be able to convince the judge to give you life instead of the death penalty. Is that agreeable with you?"

Jack calmed down. "Yes, that is agreeable."

"One question I would like answered. After you fired Perry Mason, what made you choose me?"

Brace shrugged. "I just picked you out of list of attorneys that are used as court appointed. I closed my eyes and pointed. I figured you are not used to big bucks like Mason, so you would do as I told you to do."

The look on Adair's face soured. He was not picked for his skills; he was picked because Brace thought he could control him. Well, if that was the case, the man was going to get a rather large padded bill. If he couldn't be allowed to really defend him, he might as well make some money off the case.

Adair stood up. "I'll go see Burger and try to make a deal. I'll be in touch." William Adair left the interrogation room, his ego deflated from when he came in.

2

Perry Mason and Della Street stood on the steps of the home of Kirsten Edwards. Perry rang the bell. Within moments, a woman came to the door. Upon opening it, her expression turned to disgust. "What are you doing here?"

"Mrs. Edwards, I am Perry Mason and this is my confidential secretary, Della Street. I know this is a painful time for you, but I would like to ask you some questions about your husband."

"Huh, why should I help the man who is defending my husband's killer?" She didn't wait for an answer as she attempted to close the door.

Mason placed his fingers against the door and applied pressure. "It won't take that long, and I am not representing Jack Brace."

She stopped suddenly, turned, and looked at him. "But I heard on the news that he had hired you."

"He did," Mason smiled and then said, "but then he fired me."

"So, what is your interest in the case now?"

"I am representing someone else. This individual asked me to protect his interest. He feels he could somehow become involved because of Jack Brace. It is my job to see that isn't allowed to happen."

"Is this person involved in the murder of my husband?"

Mason smiled to reassure her. "No he isn't, which is why he wants me to protect him. You could help me do that. Won't you give me just a few minutes?"

She hesitated for a moment before she finally relenting. Pushing the door open, she indicated for them to enter. Leading them into the living room, she offered for them to sit down. Mason chose a spot on the couch, and Della sat down beside him.

"What did you want to know?"

The tone was short and Mason realized she would not give him much time. "Were you aware that your husband and Jack Brace were partners?"

"Of course I was. Jack and Steve were partners in a consulting firm."

"Would you be surprised to know that was not true?" Mason watched while Della took notes.

The surprise on her face answered the question for him. "That can't be true. Steve has been his partner in the consulting firm for years. He told me so himself. Are you calling my husband a liar?"

Mason thought she was either a really good practiced liar, or she really didn't know the truth of their partnership. "Mrs. Edwards, I hate to be the one to break this news to you, but they definitely were not partners in a consulting firm. What your husband and Jack Brace really did was to take orders for valuable paintings, artifacts and jewelry. They would steal them and collect a healthy sum of money from those who hired them to steal the objects."

"That's preposterous! How dare you come in here and accuse my husband of being a thief?" She stood up and headed for the door. "I want you to leave!"

Mason made no attempt to stand up. He spoke softly as to calm her rising anger. "Mrs. Edwards, it is all going to come out in court. In fact, you will be reading about it in the newspaper. I am trying to help. I don't believe Jack Brace killed your husband. He is trying to protect someone whom I also don't believe killed your husband either. I want to find out who really killed him. Now, I am sure you don't want an innocent man going to prison, or worse getting the death penalty, for something he didn't do. If that happens, the real killer gets away with murder. You do want your husband's killer punished, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Why should I believe you?"

"Because I want justice as much as you do."

She stood there looking at the lawyer for the longest time, and then finally sat back down. "What do you want to know?"

"You didn't know about what your husband was really doing with Jack Brace?"

She shook her head. "I had no idea he was stealing." She looked around the room. "All of this was basically stolen."

"I am afraid it is worse than that, Mrs. Edwards. Your husband spent all the money he was paid over the years. That is why he was trying to force Jack Brace back into the business. He had no money left and he was falling behind in all of your bills."

"What are you saying, Mister Mason?" A worried look appeared on her face.

"He hasn't paid the payment on your house in six months. I am afraid the bank informed him they are foreclosing."

"Of my God! You must be wrong. That can't be. Steve always took care of the bills. I never had to worry about them. He told me the house was paid off. Now, you are telling me I am going to lose my home?"

"I'm afraid it's a possibility. Can you tell me who are some of the people he work for?"

"I told you all I know about his business. He never discussed it with me. I had no reason to ask. He took care of the finances. Do you think it is the reason he was murdered?"

"That's what we are trying to find out. Is there anything that you can think of that would help us?"

"I told you, Steve handled everything. I had no idea that he was not paying the bills. Now, you have me worried." She picked up the phone and called the bank where the mortgage had been taken out. After talking to someone there, she hung up the phone. "You are right, the mortgage is behind. I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This has all been very upsetting."

Mason could see no reason to question her any further. She didn't seem to have any information that would help them. He motioned to Della that they were leaving.

Kristen Edwards walked them to the door. She opened it and allowed the couple access to exit. Before they did, Mason turned, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a business card. "If you can think of anything that might help us find your husband's killer, please call my office."

She took the card, and without another word closed the door. Mason and Street returned to the attorney's Cadillac. "So, what do you think, Perry?"

"She seemed genuinely upset. If she is telling the truth, then she knows nothing of what Edwards has been doing. We'll check into it further. He opened the passenger door for Della, who slipped inside. Mission walked around the vehicle and got in the driver's side. Turning the ignition, he put the car in drive, and pulled away from the curb.

3

William Adair entered the building where Hamilton Burger's office was located.

The attorney didn't like what he had to do. It bothered him that Perry Mason thought Jack Brace was innocent. When had Mason ever been wrong about a client's guilt or innocence? He pleaded clients whom he knew to be guilty, but he never pleaded a client he felt was innocence. Mason would fight tooth and nail in the courtroom to exonerate them from a crime he felt they didn't commit. Adair had to admit, he was damn good at it. When he got done with Burger, he would pay a visit to Perry Mason.

William Adair found the door mark, "_Hamilton Burger, District Attorney_," and opened the door. Burger's secretary looked up and smiled. "Mister Burger is expecting you. She picked up the phone, pressed the intercom to the district attorney's office and said, "Mister Burger, Mister Adair is here to see you." After listening for a moment, she got up and walked to Burger's office door. "Mister Burger will see you now."

Adair followed her into the office. She left and closed the door. Hamilton Burger stood up and walked out from behind his desk. "Hello, Bill. It's good to see you. How is your practice coming along?" He indicated for Adair to have a seat and he returned to his executive chair behind his desk.

"It's coming, Hamilton, but as you know, practicing criminal law in this city is not easy."

Burger knew exactly what he was implying. "Mason gets a lot of the cases."

Adair smiled. "That he does. You know more than anyone, he is very good at what he does."

Hamilton sighed. "I'm certainly aware of that." A grin appeared on his face. "Yet, you have a case he was fired from." He was surprised when Adair didn't seem to be happy about it. "Is there something wrong, Bill?"

He thought for a moment about telling Burger of his suspicions, but then thought better of it. The district attorney believed he got his man, and nothing Adair could say was going to sway him. Besides, he had a job to do, and his client was expecting him to do it his way. "No, nothing is wrong. I came to talk to you about a plea bargain. As you know, my client participated in a number of thefts over the years. He has a great deal of information regarding those thefts. You know . . . names, places, and the items he stole for those willing to hire him to do it. He is willing to turn state's evidence, plead guilty of the murder in exchange for a sentence of life in prison."

"I bet he is," Burger responded.

Adair looked up upon hearing the remark. "Excuse me?"

"I am going to tell you right up front, Bill. I am not interested in any plea deal you may come up with. I have the man dead to right. He has been breaking the law for years and laughing in the face of justice. Well, now justice has finally caught up with him. I'll be calling for the death penalty. He deserves it and you know it. Not only will he pay for murdering Steven Edwards, but he'll also pay for all the other crimes he has committed. Life in prison is too good for him."

Adair couldn't believe it. "You'll be letting a lot of other criminals go free, Hamilton. Are you willing to live with that?"

"We'll be working on that. We'll get some of them. Those we don't get will slip up again sooner or later, so yes, I can live with that."

Adair was about to say something, but decided this could just be the chance he'd been waiting for. He'd let Burger put on his case. In the meantime, he was going to find out what really happen to Steve Edwards. This could be the case that would put him right up there with Perry Mason. "Alright, Hamilton, thank you for your time." He got up to leave.

"Just a minute, Bill. May I ask how you intend to handle the case?"

Adair looked at him in surprise. "No, you may not. You'll find out in court. Again, thank you for your time." William Adair got up and left Burger's office. If Burger thought he was going to cooperate with him after he refused to cooperate, he was taking him for an idiot, which he wasn't.

Next stop, Perry Mason's office.

4

Perry and Della arrived back at the office and entered by Mason's private entrance. Paul Drake was sitting in his favorite chair. "Gertie let me in. I hope you don't mind."

Mason smiled. "Not as long as you didn't eat all the donuts." He looked over at the box of donuts sitting on the table left there by Gertie. It was open and he could tell there were several missing from the box. He also noticed the coffee pot was nearly empty.

Paul grinned. I left a couple for you and Della. He noticed Perry looking at the coffee pot. "A fella has to stay awake especially when a certain attorney keeps him up all hours of the night."

Mason smiled and sat down behind his desk. "Della, why don't you get us some coffee? You may have to brew another pot."

Della almost laughed. Perry would never get mad at Paul even if he ate all the donuts and drank all the coffee. She went over, picked up the pot and left the office.

"Well, what do you have for me?" Mason asked.

"I have been doing some checking, but I have to tell you, Perry, I don't think you should go any further with this. Another attorney is going to be assigned to Brace's case."

"Another attorney has already been assigned to the case. William Adair," Mason told him.

"Is he any good?" Drake wondered.

"Very good, but he's young and doesn't have enough experience yet. He's going to be an excellent criminal attorney."

"Then why not let him handle it, stay out of it, and stay out of trouble?" Paul asked.

"Because I have a client who wants me to look into it."

Della returned with a full pot of coffee. She apparently had brewed it in her office rather than Mason's. She poured and set down a fresh pot of coffee in front of Perry, and then did the same for Paul.

"What client? Who could possibly care whether or not Jack Brace goes to prison?" Paul asked.

"His son for one," Mason responded.

"Oh brother, another free client!"

"He's not a free client, Paul" Della informed him. "In fact, he gave Perry a hefty retainer."

"Now, just where would that kid get a large sum of money? Perry, do you realize you probably accepted money that Jack Brace stole?"

"I don't know that for sure, but you know the old saying, '_Never look a gift horse in the mouth.' "_

Drake rolled his eyes. "You really are going to go ahead with this, aren't you? You do realize that Adair might accuse you unprofessional conduct?"

"It doesn't matter. I have a client and I am protecting that client's interest."

The phone on Mason's desk rang. Della picked it up and answered, "Yes, Gertie." She listened for a moment, her right eyebrow went up and she said to her boss, "William Adair is in the lobby. He would like to see you, Perry."

"See, what did I tell you?" Paul said. "It's already started."

"Paul, if you will excuse us?" Mason said in dismissal.

"Wait, you didn't give me a chance to tell you what I came here for," Drake said as he stood up.

"Okay, what do you have?" Mason turned his attention back to his private eye.

"Steve Edwards. You told me to check into his finances. I did that. He doesn't owe a single dime. The house was paid off recently and so was his car. The boat that he owned was also paid off. All of his credit cards have been paid as well."

Mason was stunned. "That doesn't make sense. His wife called the bank right in front of us. She said that the mortgage was behind. When exactly was it paid off?"

"All of the bills were paid off the day after Steve Edwards was murdered."

"Then his wife had to be lying," Della remarked. "She would have known that when she made the call."

"I get the feeling she knew it before she even made the call," Mason said. "Paul, did you check on where the money came from?"

"Of course I did. It came from an overseas account. It was a transfer that was already set up by Steve Edwards."

"Are we sure that Edwards was the one who set it up?"

"All I know is Edwards called in and set up the transfer. He had the right information, and it was verified by the bank."

"I want you to check further into this. I want to know if somehow his wife was the one that made that transfer. Find out if she knew about the overseas account?"

Drake headed for the private entrance of Mason's office. "On my way."

"Della, show Mister Adair into the office."

Della left and returned a few minutes later with William Adair.

"Mister Mason, my name is William Adair. I am representing Jack Brace. I need your help."


	12. Chapter 12

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 12

1

Paul Drake picked up the phone in his office and dialed he overseas operator. The only way he was going to find out how Edwards managed to pay off all of his bills was to follow the money trail, and it led to an overseas bank. Drake was well aware of the banking laws, but he knew people who knew people. Therefore, he quite often could find out information that he wouldn't ordinarily be able to get.

Perry would be able to file the proper legal papers to get the information. The problem was it could take time and time was not on their side. Paul knew that. Jack Brace wouldn't cooperate with Perry Mason. It was doubtful he would cooperate with his new lawyer. Paul understood parents trying to protect their kids . . . well as much as he could since he was not a father. But, to literally forfeit his own life was insane when there was no way he could be sure Tommy killed Steve Edwards.

Paul loved and respected Perry. He was like the brother he never had, yet sometime he just didn't understand him. Brace had terminated his services. Still, Perry was going full steam ahead to prove the man innocent of the charge. If Brace had treated him the way he treated Perry, Paul would have let the man hang. Paul had worked with Perry long enough to know he would fight against an injustice even if his help wasn't wanted. That meant Paul would go all out to help Mason do it.

"Swiss National Bank," the voice said in answer to Paul's call.

"Hans, this is Paul Drake."

Hans smiled. Paul Drake had done his investigating when he had been in Los Angeles years ago. They had become fast friends and kept in contact ever since. Paul had, like now, called on him occasionally to help with problems of overseas bank accounts. "Hello, Paul. Good to hear from you. Is this just a social call or a professional one?"

"It's both. How the hell are you?" Drake said.

"I'm doing great. Since I last spoke with you, I have been promoted. I am now in charge of the bank."

A grin broke across Paul's face. "Well, it is about time you earn your keep. Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Paul. Now that the niceties are out of the way, what can I do for you?"

"I am investigating a case for Perry. I was wondering if you could do some checking on an account in the name of Steven Edwards."

"I have been following Mason's cases ever since the time you did some investigating for me in Los Angeles. That's the murder case in which Mason was defending the partner, right?"

"Jack Brace. That's right," Paul confirmed.

"Well then, Paul, I'm confused. I read Brace fired Mason. Dumb move on his part, but if it is true, I don't understand the request you are making."

"When Perry defends a client, he goes all out. He doesn't believe Brace killed Edwards. He believes he is protecting his son."

"So the son did it?" Hans asked.

"No, Perry doesn't believe that either."

"But, how can he continue on the case. Wouldn't he be accused of unprofessional conduct?"

"Actually, he is not representing Jack Brace. He is representing his son, Tommy."

"Oh! I see. It's his way to stay on the job," Hans said.

"That's right. Now, can you check into his account for me? Perry is getting the proper legal documents together. You will receive them soon. I am just trying to get a jump on it for him," Drake explained.

"I am not supposed to do it without . . . Hell, you know that, but since the guy is dead, he certainly can't complain. I'll have it for you as soon as possible. Will that work for you?"

"Yeah, that will work. You have my number. Call me when you have the goods." Paul hung up the phone.

Now he would do some checking on Tommy. He wasn't as sure about the boy as Perry was. He had no intention of allowing the kid to pull the wool over Perry's eyes if he was actually guilty of the crime. Paul always had Perry's back, and this time would be no different.

2

Perry Mason looked at William Adair from across his desk. He didn't know very much about the lawyer, but what he did know appeared professional. Adair seemed on the surface to be a very good lawyer. It didn't mean that Mason was going to let his guard down. He had no intention of allowing the attorney to accuse him of unprofessional conduct. Right now, he would just listen to what he had to say.

"Mister Mason, I know this is an unusual request, and one I am not certain you will help me with, but I have to ask anyway."

Adair seemed to be ill at ease. Mason was fairly sure he knew why. "What can I do for you, Mister Adair?"

The lawyer looked Mason directly in the eye. "I don't know how to proceed with this case. I have been hired by Jack Brace to defend him against this murder charge." Adair noticed right away that Perry Mason seemed puzzled.

"I don't understand. Mister Brace made it clear to me he wanted to plead guilty. If he hired you, I must assume you are willing to do just that."

William Adair sat forward in his chair. "But, you were not. I must assume you do not believe he is guilty of Steve Edward's murder."

"No, I don't believe he is. I will not plead a client guilty whom I believe is innocent."

"That's what I thought. Can you tell me what he said to convince you he wasn't guilty?"

Mason smiled. "Now, you know I cannot discuss with you anything said between Jack Brace and me."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Adair began drumming his fingers on the table.

"So, why haven't you gone to Hamilton Burger and tried to plea bargain the charge down?" Mason asked.

Adair stopped drumming his fingers on Mason's desk. "I did. He refused. He believes he has an air-tight case against Brace. If I enter a guilty plea, he will ask for the death penalty."

"I see your dilemma. Then you must convince Brace to go to trial and do the best you can," Mason advised.

"I have already talked it over with him, Mister Mason. He agreed to go to trial only if Burger wouldn't bargain."

Mason lowered his brow. "Then I don't understand what the problem is. You go to trial."

"The problem is the evidence is stacked up against him. Since Burger won't bargain, and if he is convicted, he will get the death penalty. I have to stop that from happening. That is where you come in . . . I hope."

"Exactly what is it you expect me to do?" Mason asked.

"I know this is asking a lot, Mister Mason, but I would like you to sit in on the trial." Adair raised his hand to preempt Mason from saying anything. "You will be well compensated. You can send my office a bill. I will pass it on to Jack Brace."

"You have a problem in that Mister Brace fired me," Mason pointed out.

"I don't care if he did. You will be working for me."

"I must warn you I have been retained by his son, Tommy. It could be a conflict of interest."

Adair shook his head. "I don't think so. From what I have learned, the boy didn't commit the crime either. I have a feeling he hired you to find the killer, and to protect his father regardless of who he hired to defend him."

Mason smiled. The man was sharp enough to figure out why Tommy hired him. Yet, it bothered him that it could indeed be a conflict of interest. "Look, Bill, may I call you Bill?"

"Of course."

"I don't think this is a very good idea. Jack Brace will object. I have no doubt of that."

"Well, then he can get himself a new attorney. Mister Mason . . . "

Mason smiled. "Call me Perry."

The lawyer nodded at him. "Perry, I need your help on this one. Quite frankly, I think Brace made a big mistake terminating your services. You are the best there is, and well, I think I can learn a great deal from you. Besides, Brace will have the best of both worlds."

"If I agree to this, you must understand, I will put my client first at all times," Mason said.

"Understood. I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't believe it will become a problem. We are defending both of them, and I promise I won't throw Tommy Brace to the wolves."

A frown appeared on Mason's face. "You damn well better. The first order of business is to protect your client. If that means throwing suspicion on Tommy Brace, that's your obligation. Just as it is my obligation to do the same to Jack Brace if it becomes necessary." The stern look left Mason's face as he smiled. "But it won't become necessary either way. All right, I'll agree under the conditions I have stated."

Della raised an eyebrow. She would never say anything in front of Adair. She would wait until he left.

Mason stood up indicating the interview was over. "Let me know when the trial starts.

Adair shook his hand, smiled at Della, and left Mason's office.

Perry could tell Della was upset about something, and he had a pretty good idea of what it was. "Okay, Della, out with it."

His secretary took a seat on the other side of his desk. "Perry, you have done a lot of unorthodox things since I first came to work for you, but this one scares me."

Mason gave her his full attention as he valued her opinion. "How so?"

"You can't represent both of them. It is a conflict of interest."

"It's only a conflict of interest if one of them objects. Tommy certainly won't. He hired me to find Edward's killer. Don't forget, Della, he is expecting me to protect his father's interest. Hiring me to represent him is just a cover."

Twirling the pen in her hand, she continued. "What if Jack Brace rejects having you in the courtroom?"

"He can't. There is no law that says I can't be in the courtroom."

Shaking her head back and forth, Della tried a different approach. "There may not be any law preventing it, but what about the press? They are going to be all over the fact that your services were terminated, but you are still in the courtroom."

"So what? I have never allowed the press to dictate my actions, and I don't intend to start letting them do it now. Della, Jack Brace is not guilty of murdering Steve Edwards. Nor is Tommy guilty of it. They have to be protected."

"And if Jack Brace files an ethics complaint against you?" Della asked with concern.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Della said all she could about the situation. She knew Perry extremely well. When he made up his mind to do something, it was nearly impossible to change it. And, he had made up his mind to stay on Jack Brace's case whether he wanted him there or not. She just hoped it didn't come back to bite him.

3

The bird on the window sill bobbed his head back and forth. Tommy lay on his bed watching him. He could not face going out today. Every time he left the house, he was surrounded by a gaggle of reporters looking for a story on his father. Now they had somehow gotten wind of the fact that he had hired Perry Mason to protect his interest. Naturally, they immediately decided Tommy was involved with Steve Edwards' murder. Not that Tommy hadn't thought about it. Edwards was blackmailing his father. He was also blackmailing Tommy himself.

Tommy almost wished he had gotten to Edwards first. He didn't know who killed him, but the bastard deserved it. Never had he met a slimier individual in his life. He had lived off Tommy's father for years. When he could no longer do it, he decided he was going to live off Tommy's talents. Now that Tommy had seen what it had done to his father, he wanted no part of being a cat burglar.

Did his father deserve to go to prison for the rest of his life? Probably, but not for murder. Tommy was hoping Mister Mason would be able to find the real killer, and then just maybe, his dad could get a deal by turning states' evidence against all the people he'd stolen for.

Tommy's cellphone rang on the night stand beside him. He stared at the screen. It read "Unknown number." Normally, Tommy would ignore phone numbers he didn't recognize. They were almost always telemarketers trying to sell something, or politicians trying to get a contribution for their political campaigns. Tommy had no interest in either one. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to find out who it was. Maybe it was Mister Mason. After all, he didn't have the lawyer's phone number in the contacts on his phone.

Tommy swiped across the answer button and said, "Hello."

"Is this Tommy Brace?" the voice asked.

"It is. Who's this?" the boy asked.

"Never mind who this is. This is a warning call. Make sure your father's lawyer pleads him guilty and throws him on the mercy of the court. If you don't, you will not only lose your father to prison, you will lose your mother as well." The phone went dead.

Stunned into silence, Tommy just sat there. It never occurred to him his mother could be in the cross hairs of this mess. He couldn't let anything happen to her. It was bad enough his father was in legal trouble. If he went to jail, the only family member Tommy would have left would be his mom. It could be a bit selfish on his part, but he could not lose the only person he might have left in the entire world. Should he do as the caller had suggested?

He could go over to the jail and talk to his father. Perry Mason had seen to it that he could see his dad anytime he wanted to. Tommy hadn't really taken advantage of it. He was so mad at his father for not fighting back; he just could not bring himself to go back to the jail. But, maybe he should . . . to protect his mother. After all, his father was a crook if he took the laws literally.

Tommy sat there struggling with what he should do. He loved both his parents. Sure, parents were a drag. All kids thought so. But, maybe it was time he grew up and started thinking of his parents as people he loved and needed to stand by and protect. He made his decision. It was time he acted like a man. If his father went to prison, he would be the man of the family. It would be his job to take care of and protect his mother. So, what would be the best way to become this new-found man he wanted to be? How could he protect both his parents?

Perry Mason was the answer. Tommy got off the bed. He removed his sweats and put on jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Mister Mason needed to know about that phone call. He supposed he could just call him, but he needed to talk to him. He needed his assurance everything was going to be all right.

4

"I told you not to call me here," the man said after he found out who was calling.

"So how am I supposed to get a hold of you? We have a problem. His name is Perry Mason."

"You need to keep up. Mason is not a problem. Brace fired him and hired another attorney. The man's name is William Adair."

"Yeah, I don't like Adair either. He has a reputation for being honest."

"Just how honest do you think he will be when he has a kid that is costing thousands in medical expenses? He needs money to pay the bills."

"How do you know that?"

The man laughed. "You really shouldn't be in this business if you can't do your homework. Adair can be bought. We are working on that now. He will be paid a substantial amount of money to throw the case. I heard Hamilton Burger will not allow Adair to plea bargain. That means it will go to trail and Adair will try to keep Brace from getting the death penalty. When we are done with Adair, he will make sure Brace gets the death penalty."

"How can you be so sure of that? I hear the kid hired Perry Mason. If that is true, Mason is not out of this. He will continue to poke his nose in everything. Mason is dangerous. You may be able to buy Adair, but you will never buy Mason, and he is really the one we need to worry about."

"Well then, maybe it is time we approach the kid. He is a thief just like his father. I am betting he can be bought as well. We'll get him to fire Mason just like daddy did."

"I wouldn't count on it. If I were a betting man, my money would be on Mason."

"You better get your head screwed on right, buddy boy. If any of us goes down, we all do. Stop worrying and let the adults handle this. Just take your shipment and keep your mouth shut."

"I'm not taking anything. I'm done. I have a plane ticket to Mexico. I have a home down there and with the money I have I am out of here. I'll live a very comfortable life with whatever is left of it."

"Don't even try it. You'll be dead before you ever get on the plane."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Damn right I am. None of us are going down. We all stick together and wait until Brace is convicted. Once that is done, we're home free." He hung up the phone. Picking it up once again, he dialed a number and waited for an answer. When it came, he said, "We have a problem."


	13. Chapter 13

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 13

1

William Adair entered the courtroom. His client was already at the defense table. When he approached, he looked at Jack Brace. He was wearing a dark blue suit and tie with a baby blue shirt. He was dressed professional enough. That wasn't the problem. What bothered Adair was the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble he was supporting on his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

Adair looked around the courtroom for Perry Mason. He didn't see him anywhere. Never before had he felt so uneasy about a trial. He had been approached by . . . someone. The man had promised thousands of dollars in return for throwing the trial and letting Jack Brace get the death penalty. He had never taken a bribe in his entire life, especially not as an attorney.

Bill Adair loved practicing law. He went to school at Harvard. Receiving excellent grades, he went on to pass the bar exam with flying colors. In fact, Bill's test score was right up there with Perry Mason and Hamilton Burger. He boasted the third highest score in the history of the testing. He doubted anyone would ever beat Mason's score. The man had aced it. He didn't get a single answer wrong. Hamilton Burger hadn't been that far behind him, and he was sitting right across the table.

Bill would feel a lot better if Perry Mason were in the courtroom. He knew he was a good defense attorney, but Mason was exceptional. Adair was hoping the man would advise him every step of the way through the trial. He had no doubt there was much he could learn from Mason. He was the defense attorney every lawyer aspired to be.

"Well, how are we pleading?" Brace asked his attorney.

"I am afraid I could not get Burger to plead this case. He feels he has a slam-dunk winner. So, we only have two choices. Plead guilty as you made clear you wanted to do. However, Hamilton Burger is going to ask for the death penalty. If you do that, I don't think there is much doubt, that is exactly what you will get."

For the first time, Jack Brace looked worried. He was hoping for life in prison. Brace was certain he could handle prison life. He supposed that is where he actually belonged in the first place. But the death penalty? He hadn't planned on that being in the mix. Jack had been certain Burger would take the bait and allow him to turn states' evidence on all the people he had stolen for and from in the past. It would turn out to be a smorgasbord for any prosecutor. He underestimated Burger. Jack thought for sure Burger would allow him to cop a plea for all the publicity he would receive for bringing down the theft ring. He had been wrong. Burger was extremely eager to beat Mason in the courtroom, and would not plead it, hoping to be the first to defeat the lawyer. Yet, Jack believed he removed that possibility by firing the famous attorney. He thought Burger would then plea bargain; how wrong he had been.

Now, he faced a trial, one he had been hoping to avoid. He could spend the rest of his life in prison. What he couldn't do was face death. So, he had no choice but to go ahead and put his life in William Adair's hands. With the way things turned out, he now wished he hadn't fired Mason. He had the reputation of being the best defense attorney in the country, and he had fired him! His strategy of protecting his son had backfired on his own case.

"What are the chances I can beat this rap?" Jack asked his attorney.

"I won't lie to you, Mister Brace. The evidence is stacked against you. I have a private investigator out there trying to piece together exactly what happened. Unfortunately, you had motive, opportunity, and the tire iron which was the murder weapon, had your prints all over it."

"Then we must plead not guilty," Jack said. He sat back in his seat. How could he be so stupid as to fire Perry Mason. The thought of having to put his life in the hands of an attorney with far less experience, and a record that couldn't come close to Mason's was disturbing to say the least. Well, he had made his bed, so to speak. Now, he would have to lie in it. He wondered if a lethal injection was painful.

The judge entered the courtroom. The bailiff called out, "All rise. Judge Morgan Archibald presiding." Everyone in the courtroom stood up while Judge Archibald took his place behind the bench.

"Be seated," the judge said before turning his attention to William Adair. "Mister Mason put in a plea of not guilty. Is it the defendant's desire to change that plea?"

Adair stood up. "No, Your Honor. We would like to enter the plea as it stands."

Archibald then turned his attention to Burger. "Is the prosecution ready?"

Hamilton Burger responded immediately. "We are, Your Honor."

"Is the defense ready?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Despite answering in the affirmative, William Adair never felt so unprepared. The evidence was overwhelming. He didn't see how he could stop Jack Brace from getting the death penalty let alone an acquittal.

"Then, Mister Burger, call your first witness."

Hamilton Burger stood up. "The people call the medical examiner, Hank Kessler.

Kessler stood up from his front row seat behind the prosecution's table, passed through the gate that separated the spectators from the attorney, and was sworn in before taking his seat on the witness stand.

Burger approached the bench. "Doctor Kessler, you are from the medical examiner's office, are you not?"

"I am."

"Did you have the opportunity to do the autopsy on the deceased, Steven Edwards?"

"I did."

"And, can you tell the court how he died?"

"He died from a blow to the back of his head with a rather heavy instrument," he answered.

Hamilton Burger walked over to the evidence table and picked up a tire iron. With it in hand, he went back to his witness and handed him the tire iron. "Doctor, could this have been used as the murder weapon?"

"Objection," Adair stood up and called out. "The tire iron has not been proven to be the murder weapon. Mister Burger is calling for an opinion."

Burger turned around and looked at William Adair. "An expert opinion, Mister Adair. His opinion has been used dozens of times in this courtroom."

"Until the tire iron is proven to be the murder weapon, it is speculation on the part of the doctor."

Judge Archibald interrupted the attorneys. "Mister Adair, I am going to allow Doctor Kessler to give his opinion. He is an expert after all, and the opinion is proper."

As Adair sat back down, the door to the courtroom opened and Perry Mason entered. The moment he did, the news media turned their cameras on him. Mason was not fazed in the least by the attention. He walked to the middle row of the spectators and sat down in the only empty chair he could spot. The judge watched the famous attorney, but said nothing.

"Doctor, could this tire iron cause the death in the manner in which the deceased died?" Burger asked.

"Most definitely. It caused massive hemorrhage in the brain."

Perry noted that Adair didn't object. It was supposed to be an expert opinion, but Kessler just testified the tire iron caused the hemorrhage. He would not have let that go by. Until it was proven as the murder weapon, he would only allow the witness to say it could have caused it if it was indeed the murder weapon.

"At what time do you estimate the time of death?" Burger asked next.

"Between 7:00 and 8:00 pm."

"Your witness."

Adair stood up, hesitated and then said, "No questions."

Jack Brace looked at his lawyer. "What do you mean no questions? Why didn't you questioned him?"

Adair shook his head. "There is nothing to question. The tire iron is the murder weapon, it is yours, and we know the murder was between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. I know how to pick my battles, Jack, and this is not one of them. We'll have our chance. Be patient."

"The people call Lieutenant Arthur Tragg to the stand," Burger stated. He looked over at William Adair. He didn't understand why he didn't try to poke holes in the medical examiner's testimony. He supposed he should consider it a gift. He was used to Perry Mason who would attempt, and quite often succeed in tearing apart his witnesses. Brace firing Mason turned out to be a godsend for the prosecution.

Arthur Tragg took the stand after being sworn in. Burger walked over to his witness. "Lieutenant, you were the officer called to the scene of the crime where Steven Edwards was murdered, were you not?"

"I was," Tragg confirmed.

"Tell the court how that came to be."

"I received a phone call tipping us off about a murder at the home in question."

"What did you find when you arrived?" Burger asked.

"I found the dead body of Steven Edwards."

"Was there anyone at the scene when you arrived?"

"Yes, Perry Mason, Paul Drake and the defendant."

Burger looked back at the defense table. "You mean the defendant, Jack Brace?"

Nodding his head, Tragg confirmed, "Yes."

"What were Mason and Drake doing there?"

"They refused to tell me, but at the time Mason was the attorney for Jack Brace."

"What else did you discover?" Burger asked.

"Mister Brace was holding a tire iron in his hand."

"Was there anything unusual about the manner in which he was holding the tire iron, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, he was holding it with a handkerchief."

"Was the tire iron dusted for prints?"

With a nod of his head, Tragg answered, "Yes, the defendant tried to prevent putting his fingerprints on it, but we were able to pull several prints from it."

Perry Mason waited for the objection from Adair. He would have objected and pointed out he simply was trying to preserve whatever prints there were. Mason would have claimed he was going to bring the tire iron to either him or the police.

"Were there any identifying marks on the tire iron?"

"Yes. It had the initials 'JAB' on it."

"And does that have any significance to the defendant?" Burger continued.

"It does. It is the initials of the defendant."

Burger walked over to the evidence table and picked up the tire iron. He went back to his witness and handed it to him. "Is this the tire iron the defendant had in his possession?"

Lieutenant Tragg looked it over and pointed out the mark he had put on it. "Yes, it has my mark on it."

Burger took the tire iron back as Tragg handed it to him. "Lieutenant, how did you determine that this was the murder weapon?"

"There was blood on it. The police lab determined that it was Steven Edwards' blood."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, that will be all." Burger turned to Adair and said, "Your witness, Counselor."

Adair stood up an approached the witness. "Lieutenant, there were two other people in that room. That would make them suspects, would it not?"

"Ordinarily, yes, but Mason and Drake had no motive to kill Edwards. Besides, those two are constantly finding dead bodies," Tragg said sarcastically.

The courtroom broke out in laughter. Judge Archibald banged his gavel to quiet the courtroom. He bit his inter cheeks to keep from smiling. He was aware Mason and Drake had discovered quite a few bodies over the years.

Adair found himself lost for words with Tragg. He just said he had no further questions and sat down.

Perry was astounded by Adair's cross-examination. He hadn't tried to counter the evidence at all.

"What are you doing?" Brace said to his attorney. "Are you trying to get me convicted of this crime?"

William Adair said nothing. He couldn't do it. He'd always been an honest attorney. He stood up and said, "Your Honor, I would like to be removed as counsel for the defendant."

The room exploded in chatter. Morgan Archibald banged his gavel, but it took a minute to quiet the courtroom. "Mister Adair, you better have a good reason for asking to be removed."

"I do, Your Honor. I request a conference in private."

"I will see both attorneys in my chambers immediately," Judge Archibald got up and left the bench. He disappeared through the door into his private chambers.

Without looking at his client, William Adair stood up and followed Hamilton Burger and Archibald.

Once inside, the judge asked irritably, "What exactly is going on? You don't drop your client in the middle of a trial. You better have a damn good reason!"

Hamilton Burger didn't say anything. He just sat down in a chair in front of the judge's desk.

"Your Honor, I took this job with reluctance. The client is not very cooperative, plus I was following in the footsteps of Perry Mason. That isn't exactly easy to do," Adair stated.

"You better have a better explanation than that," Judge Archibald demanded.

"Actually, I do," explained Adair. "Your Honor, I am quite heavily in debt. And, for the first time in my life, I actually thought about taking a bribe. But, I find I just can't do it. You see, I was offered a huge sum of money to throw this trial. Someone wants to see Jack Brace in jail. I don't know who offered me the money, however, it has been placed in an account in my name. I am ashamed that I even considered it. That is why I cannot go on as Jack Brace's attorney. He deserves better than that. I am requesting that Perry Mason take over immediately."

With a confused look on his face, Hamilton Burger spoke up for the first time. "But, Brace fired Mason."

"I know that. Mister Brace actually wanted to plead guilty. However, Mister Burger is not willing to plea bargain. Therefore, we had no choice but to plead not guilty. It would have been very hard for me to plead him guilty as I don't believe Jack Brace killed Steven Edwards. I believe he is trying to protect someone."

"You have no idea who paid you all this money?" Archibald asked.

"No sir, none whatsoever. Actually, I never agreed to do it. I was simply informed of the account number in which the money had been placed in my name. I decided when I came in this morning that I just simply couldn't do what they want me to do. Jack Brace deserves a fair trial. I have been compromised, despite the fact that I did not actually agree to accept the money in return for throwing the trial. Nevertheless, my own conscience will not let me continue."

"Mister Burger, I trust the money will be traced to its source?" the judge asked.

"I can guarantee that, Your Honor."

"Mister Burger would you ask Mister Mason to come in here. I believe I saw him among the spectators."

Hamilton nodded and left the judge's chambers. He walked right past the gate and directly to Perry Mason. The famed attorney looked up at his friend and adversary. "What is it, Hamilton?"

"Judge Archibald would like to see you in his chambers."

Not at all that surprised, Mason stood up and followed Hamilton Burger into the judge's chambers.

"Perry, have a seat please," Archibald instructed.

"What's this about?" Mason asked.

The judge had William Adair repeat what he had told him and Hamilton Burger.

"Exactly, what are you asking me to do? As you know, Jack Brace terminated my services."

"I'm aware of that, Perry. We have a problem. Jack Brace must be represented. You are already familiar with the case. I trust your interest hasn't waned since you are in the courtroom this morning. Would you be willing to take over the case?"

"Unfortunately, I have a problem there. I have been retained by Tommy Brace, and there could be a conflict of interest."

"Didn't I see Tommy Brace in the courtroom?" Archibald asked.

"Yes," Mason said, "Tommy is here to support his father."

"I know this is highly unusual and never done, but I would like both Tommy and Jack Brace brought into my chambers."

Mason immediately stood up. "I'll get them." He walked out of the judge's chambers and back into the courtroom. When he reached the defense table, he addressed Jack. "The judge would like to see you in his chambers."

Brace stood up. "What is this all about? Why would he want to see me?"

Mason didn't answer him; he looked beyond him and spoke to Tommy. "He would also like to see you, Tommy."

Father and son followed the lawyer into the judge's chambers. Two chairs had been set up in Mason's absence.

Archibald pointed at the chairs. "Please have a seat. We have something very important to discuss. Mister Adair is stepping down as your lawyer, Mister Brace. We are not going to discuss why; he has a very good reason for doing so. Because of that, you are once again without an attorney. I've called Perry Mason in here because he is familiar with the case. However, he tells me he has a conflict of interest because he is representing young Tommy."

Tommy didn't hesitate. "Not anymore, he's not. I am sorry, Mister Mason, but you're fired." Tommy was supporting a very big grin.

Mason smiled. "That is the second time someone in this family has fired me." It brought out a chuckle from the people in the room.

"Well, I guess that takes care of the conflict of interest problem." Archibald smiled and then spoke to Jack Brace. "Are you willing to have Mister Mason take over the case?"

Jack looked at his son. Tommy knew exactly what he was thinking. He wasn't about to allow his father to compromise his own life to protect him. "Dad, listen to me. I know you didn't kill Steve Edwards. I also know you think that I did. I'm telling you right now, up front, that I didn't do it either. So stop trying to protect me. It isn't necessary. Mister Mason is a great lawyer. Tell him you want him to defend you."

"I wasn't aware that you had hired Mason."

Tommy grinned. "I did it to protect you and to keep him on this case. So you see, he has kept up with everything that has happened. He even has his private detective out there."

Jack Brace turned his attention to Perry Mason. "I know I don't deserve it, but are you willing to be my lawyer again?"

"Mason smiled. "I was always your lawyer."

"Well, now that that is settled, I suggest we get back in the courtroom," Archibald said.

"Just a moment, Your Honor," Mason said. "I am not happy with the cross-examination of the medical examiner or Lieutenant Tragg. I request that I be able to recall both of them to the stand."

"Now hold on!" Burger protested. "The defense has already cross-examined both witnesses. I see no reason to bring either one of them back to the stand because of a change in attorney. William Adair is a very competent attorney."

"Who has admitted he has been compromised," Mason pointed out. "I want the opportunity to . . ."

The judge put up his hand to silence Mason. "I realize this is an unusual situation. However, I think it is only fair to adjourn court and give Mister Mason 24 hours to reacquaint himself with the case. When we reconvene, in the interest of justice, I am going to allow him to re-examine the witnesses. I agree with Mister Mason that the examination of both witnesses was inadequate."

Burger was unhappy with the judge's decision, but he knew there wasn't anything he could do about it, so he said nothing further.

Judge Archibald dismissed everyone, and they went back into the courtroom. When all parties had taken their places, he announced, "Perry Mason will take over the defense of the defendant. Court will adjourn for 24 hours. We will reconvene at nine tomorrow morning." Archibald bang his gavel and left the courtroom.

"I am so sorry, Mister Mason. I never should have terminated your services."

"Let's not worry about that right now. I will see you in the morning." Mason left his client in walked out of the courtroom.


	14. Chapter 14

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 14

1

Roy Flynn looked out the window of his office. The worry on his face was evident. He had just hung up the phone. The news had not been good. Roy had been hoping for a quick trial ending in a guilty verdict for Jack Brace. With William Adair handling his defense, Roy was certain that was exactly what was going to happen. Although Adair had a good reputation, he was rather inexperienced. Flynn was elated when he found out Brace fired the esteemed Perry Mason.

With Mason out of the way, Adair did not have the skills of the famous attorney. Nor did he have an investigative pro like Paul Drake. As a result, Roy didn't think his activities would come to light. Over the years, he had made a tidy profit with the paintings that Jack Brace had stolen for him. He hadn't kept any of them, rather opting to resell them on the black market. His business ventures with Brace head made him a very comfortable living.

Now all of that was in danger of being exposed due to the fact that Perry Mason had been rehired by Jack Brace to defend him. Roy was not kidding himself. Perry Mason was a dangerous individual to have snooping into his business. The man had a tremendous reputation for bulldozing over anybody who got in his way of defending a client. He didn't care who he hurt and how he did it. Just as long as his client was acquitted of the crime they were accused of, Mason would use anything and everything at his disposal to protect them. How long would it be before he came knocking on Roy's door?

Flynn stood up and walked over to his filing cabinet. He pulled open the bottom drawer all the way to the back. Removing the last file, he stepped over to his desk. Sitting back down in his executive chair, he opened the file and began reading. He smiled at the information he had recorded over the years. Roy had been able to obtain some of the most valuable and sought-after paintings in the world. With Steve Edwards dead, he had mistakenly thought he had nothing to worry about. Edwards could no longer blackmail him.

Flynn would have to wait until everything died down before he could obtain anymore stolen paintings. Looking down the list, he still couldn't believe the paintings that he had been able to get his hands on. Beside each painting was the amount of money that he purchased them and the amount he sold them for. Most of that money was now hidden safely in an overseas account. He only kept enough of it in a Los Angeles bank that he could account for with his job. When he needed money, he would have it wired and then laundered through an account to avoid leaving a trail for the police, or in this case a private detective such as Paul Drake. Drake was good, there was no doubt about that. Mason wouldn't use him otherwise.

As he continued to stare at the file in front of him, he realized how incriminating it would be for him if it got into the hands of the police, or Paul Drake. That was something he couldn't allow to happen. Picking up the file, Flynn walked over to the paper shredder. He began dropping the papers into it one by one. He watched as the jagged teeth of the shredder tore the papers into long, thin strings that would never be able to be put together again. After all, he didn't need to keep this file. He had it on a flash drive that was well hidden in his home. No one would ever find it. When the time came, he could always access it by putting the flash drive into the computer. This way there would never be a written record of the paintings he had bought and sold. It was a safety protection that had become necessary.

Roy thought about his association with Steve Edwards. Was there anything in the background that Paul Drake or Perry Mason could find to tie him to the thief? More importantly, could they find anything that would turn him directly to Jack Brace?

Jack Brace . . . he was far more concerned about him than he was about Steve Edwards. He had no idea if Brace kept records of the people he had stolen for. Obviously, no one could get to him to silence him. What if he made a deal with the police? Would Roy then be tied to the man's activities.

He was certain Mason had become a liability that needed to be dealt with. It was time he talk to the others. Something definitely had to be done about Perry Mason. He was the one person who had the ability to blow the entire situation completely out of control.

Roy actually didn't care about the others. He only cared about protecting himself from prosecution. Then again, if the district attorney's office had gone ahead and charged him with first-degree murder, Jack Brace obviously had not made a deal with Hamilton Burger. Did that mean he was worrying for nothing? Roy really did not know what to do.

2

Della Street opened the door to Perry Mason's office and walked in. The lawyer looked up from his paperwork. "Yes, Della, what is it?"

Without answering his question, she walked over to his desk. With a puzzled look on her face, she said, "City Councilman Donald Fredendall is here to see you."

Mason frowned. "I don't recall an appointment with the councilman. What does he want?"

"He doesn't have an appointment, but he insists on seeing you. As far as what he wants, he wouldn't tell me. He said he would only speak with you."

Mason tapped the pen in his hand on the desk. "Della, I'm in the middle of a murder trial. I have to concentrate on that. Ask him to make an appointment at a later date."

Before she could respond, the door to Mason's office opened and Donald Fredendall walked in. He was followed into the office by a very exasperated Gertie.

"Mason, I am not accustomed to having to wait," Fredendall complained.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mason. I couldn't stop him." Gertie threw her hands in the air.

Mason smiled at his receptionist. "It is all right, Gertie." That seemed to soothe her, and she left his office, closing the door on the way out.

Mason turned his attention to the councilman. "Mr. Fredendall, I am not accustomed to people barging into my office. Nor do I appreciate it. I could very well have had a client in here. What is so important, that you couldn't wait to be announced?"

"I don't care how busy you are. We have a matter to discuss."

"I will do so with you this time. However, do not ever barge into my office again." Mason made it very clear through his tone of voice that he would never tolerate it again.

"I don't particularly care whether you like it or not, Mason. This is important. Why have you taken over the case for Jack Brace?"

"I'm sorry, but I will not discuss that with you."

"You damn well will!" He looked over at Della Street and snarled, "But not with her in the office. I don't want any witnesses to this conversation."

Della raised her eyebrows. She knew that wasn't going to go over well with Perry.

"Miss Street is my confidential secretary. She sits in on all of my conversations. The fact that you don't want the conversation overheard by her only makes her presence in this office more important. I suggest you say what it is you came here to say and then leave, Mister Fredendall."

"That's Councilman," he said indignantly.

"If you want me to respect your title, then I suggest you stop calling me Mason."

"Fair enough. Now I want to know why you are going to represent Brace again?"

Mason shook his head. "And I already told you I would not discuss that with you."

"You don't understand. I unknowingly purchased several paintings of considerable value from Jack Brace. I had no idea the man was crooked. I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into. There are people that are not going to let you investigate this."

"Is that a threat?" Mason asked.

"No, Mason, it's not a threat. I'm just telling you the way it is."

"If you bought paintings that were stolen, I highly recommend that you contact the police and turn them over to them. They will see to it that they get back to the rightful owners," Mason suggested.

"I can't do that. I paid a considerable amount of money for them. As far as I am concerned, they are mine. I simply came here to appeal to you to drop Jack Brace as a client. He will be convicted if you are not handling his case."

"And of course, it makes no difference to you that the man very well could be innocent of the charge? "

"Oh hell, Mason, he is plenty guilty of a lot of other things. Let him go to jail."

"Should I let him be executed as well?" Mason stared directly into the eyes of the city councilman.

"What difference does it make? He's a crook. Will your ego be bruised if you don't win a case?"

Mason stood up. "You said what you came here to say. So, I would suggest you leave my office."

"What about Brace? Are you going to drop the case?"

"I am afraid that is no concern of yours. Miss Street will show you the way out. Good day, Fredendall."

It did not get past the councilman that Mason referred to him by his last name only. He stood up and headed for the door. "I don't need to be shown the way out. I know where the door is." He turned back and looked at the attorney. "You will regret this, Mason. I can make your life a living hell."

"I look forward to it," Mason said. He watched as the councilman left his office and slammed the door. "Della, get Paul down here immediately."

Street picked up the phone and dialed Paul Drake's office. She waited while it rang. After a moment, she said, "If Mr. Drake is in, Mr. Mason would like to see him immediately." She continued to listen for a moment and then hung up the phone. "Paul will be right down."

Della no more got the words out of her mouth then there was a knock on the door. It was Paul Drake's special code knock.

Della Street gracefully walked over to the door and opened it to a smiling Paul Drake.

"Hello, Beautiful," Drake said as he entered the office. He went directly over to the overstuffed chair and sat down. He rested his back against the arm of the chair on one side and threw his long legs over the arm of the other side.

"So, what's up, Perry?" Drake asked.

"I just had a visit from one of our esteemed councilman. Do you know who Donald Fredendall is?"

"Yeah, I know who he is," Drake replied. "He's the little weasel that votes with two other little weasels on the council."

Mason smiled. Paul never held back the way he felt. "That's the one."

"So what did he want? I hope you're not going to ask me to do any investigating for him. I don't know what his problem is, but I suggest you let him handle it himself. It is only a matter of time before someone catches him breaking the law."

"I have a feeling that he already has," Mason said. He told Drake how the councilman had demanded that he drop Jack Brace's case, and about the paintings he had purchased which Mason believed were stolen, and that Fredendall did it knowingly.

"So, what do you want me to do, Perry?"

Mason sat forward in his chair. "I want to know why the councilman threatened me. I want to know who are the people who are not going to be happy with my defense of Jack Brace. Find out who Fredendall has been associating with. I want to know if he has been dealing with any large sums of money and where it has been going. He wouldn't have threatened me unless he is involved in purchasing a lot of stolen paintings. Since he made the threat that there are others out there who would not appreciate me defending Jack Brace, I am betting he is tied to them as well. In other words . . . "

"You want his life story." Drake continued writing notes into his notebook which he always carried in his pocket. "Anything else?"

"Have you come up with anything on Tommy?" Mason asked.

"Nothing that we don't already know. The kid was pulled into his father's occupation for a while, but I am certain that he has stopped. Basically, he is a pretty smart kid. He rebelled against his father for a while when he realized what he was doing for a living. It looks like the thefts that he did were simply to get back at his father."

"Then as far as you're concerned, he is clear of having anything to do with Steve Edwards' murder?"

"I think we can safely drop him off the suspect list," Paul said.

"All right then. I'll let you get back to work."

Drake put the notebook and pen back into his suit coat pocket. He swung his legs down to the floor and stood up. "You'll be hearing from me as soon as I have something for you." Drake walked swiftly over to the private entrance of Mason's office. He opened the door and left.

The phone on Mason's desk rang. Della reached over and picked up the receiver. "Yes, Gertie."

"Miss Street, there is another city councilman here to see Mr. Mason."

Della looked over at Perry and raised an eyebrow. "Which city councilman?"

"Bill Mozat," she answered.

Della looked over at Mason and again raised her eyebrows, questioning whether Perry wanted to see the councilman. When Mason nodded at her, Della told Gertie, "Send him in."

"Della, go into the law library and call Paul's office. If he hasn't already left, ask him to hold on. We may have another councilman for him to investigate."

His ever efficient secretary stood up, went into the law library, but left the door slightly ajar. The door to Perry's office opened, and Gertie walked in with Bill Mozat.

"Mason, I want to talk to you." Mozat rushed over to his desk. Using his index finger, he tapped on the desk.

"When people want to consult me, it is customary to make an appointment." Mason, who had stood up the moment the councilman walked into his office, did not offer his hand. Nor did the councilman.

"I don't have time to sit around and wait in your lobby, Mason. I'm a busy man," he snarled.

"So am I, Mr. Mozat. So, tell me what it is you want to see me about."

Mozat watched as Della re-entered the office from the law library. He looked back at Mason. "This is private conversation, Mason. She'll have to leave."

"Miss Street is my confidential secretary. She makes a record of every conversation that takes place in this office," Mason informed him.

"I don't want you to record any of this conversation. Tell her to leave the room."

"That is all the more reason for her to keep a record of this exchange. She stays or this conversation is at an end."

Placing his knuckles on the edge of Mason's desk, he said angrily, "You think you can do anything you want, don't you? Well, I got news for you. I can make your life miserable. You drop Jack Brace or I promise you, I will do exactly that."

Keeping his demeanor calm, the lawyer said, "You are not in the position to tell me who I can and cannot represent. What are you afraid of, Councilman? What are you hiding?" Mason asked.

Ignoring Masons questions, Councilman Mozat headed for the door. "You will regret this, Mason." He walked out and slammed the door.

"That is the second time today I have been threatened by one of our city councilmen," Mason said.

"What do you suppose is going on?" Della asked him.

"I don't know, Della. I can tell you one thing; I intend to find out."

"I don't understand. If either of them actually are involved with purchasing stolen paintings, why would they rush into your office and bring themselves to your attention?"

"I don't know that either. Maybe they actually thought they could influence me to drop the case. There is something suspect about the way they handled it."

Once again, Paul's code knock sounded on Mason's private office door. Della walked over and opened it. Drake smiled and entered. "Della says you have another councilman you want investigated."

"That's right. Check out Councilman Mozat. That makes two members of the city council who have threatened me today. I want to know why, Paul. Find out what their connection is to this case."

"Anything else?" Drake asked.

"No, that'll be it. For now."

After the private detective left the office, Mason got up and walked over to his secretary. "We need to get to work. I have to decide who I am going to call as defense witnesses. I think we'll start with two of our city councilmen. We'll have subpoenas issued in the morning."

"Perry, if we are going to work late, you don't suppose you could feed me first?" She stood before him with a smile.

Mason looked at his watch. It is getting rather late, isn't it. I'll tell you what, we'll go across the street and get some dinner. Then we'll come back here and get some work done." Mason put his arms around his secretary. "After that, who knows, maybe it'll still be early enough for a little romance."

The smile returned to Della's face. "In the middle of a trial? That'll be the day." She picked up the papers on his desk and transferred them to the table. "Well, Counselor, shall we get started?"


	15. Chapter 15

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 15

1

Tommy Brace took the elevator to the floor where Perry Mason's office was located. He didn't know if Mason would be able to see him; he didn't have an appointment. Nevertheless, he had to try. It was important Mason know about the latest development regarding his father. He walked down the hall until he reached the door that read "Perry Mason, Attorney at Law."

Tommy opened the door. Gertie was sitting at her desk. She looked up as the young man entered. "Can I help you?"

"I would like to see Mister Mason. I don't have an appointment, but it is very important that I see him."

Giving the boy a sympathetic look, she said, "I'm sorry. Mister Mason doesn't see anyone without an appointment. He is in very big demand, and an appointment is essential to see him."

Tommy looked down in disappointment. "Well, then can I talk to Miss Street?"

"I can see if she is not busy with Mister Mason if you are willing to wait."

He brightened up a bit. "Yes, I can wait. I'll wait all day if necessary. Tommy walked over and sat down in one of the chairs in the lobby.

"Who shall I say is calling?" Gertie asked.

"Tommy Brace," he answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have recognized you." Gertie picked up the phone and when it was answered, said, "Miss Street, Tommy Brace would like to see Mister Mason, but will talk to you if he can't see him."

A moment later, the door opened and Della Street came into the lobby. With a warm smile, she addressed the boy. "Hello, Tommy. What is it you want to see Mister Mason about?"

"About a phone call I received, a threatening one."

Della immediately invited Tommy into her office. She picked up the phone, buzzed the intercom, and told Perry what had transpired. After hanging up the phone, she smiled. "Mister Mason will see you immediately."

A grin appeared on Tommy's face. He was afraid he would not be able to see Mason, and it was important that he did.

Della opened the door to Mason's office and led the boy inside. Perry Mason stood as Tommy came in. "Hello, Tommy. What can I do for you?" With a wave of his hand, Mason indicated for the young man to sit in the chair across from his desk.

After sitting down, Tommy said, "Mister Mason, I am concerned for my mother's safety."

"Why? Has something happened?"

"Well, yes. I received a phone call. It was a man, but I didn't recognize the voice. He said I was to convince my father to plead guilty to killing Steve Edwards or my mother would pay the price."

"When did you receive this phone call?" Mason asked.

"Yesterday. I'm worried about my mom."

"I'll take care of it. We'll put a man outside your house to keep an eye on your mother, and to follow her if she leaves the house. And Tommy . . . "

"Yes."

"I don't want you to tell your father about the phone call. He has already fired me once; I don't want to give him any reason to do it again. You leave it to me to see that your mother is protected. You did the right thing coming here and telling me."

"I knew you would protect her. Well, I won't take up any more of your time. Thanks, Mister Mason." Tommy stood up and headed for the door.

"Tommy," Mason said.

The boy turned around. "Yes, Mister Mason."

"If you receive any more calls like that, I want to know."

Tommy smiled. "You'll be the first to know." He turned and left his office.

"Well, who do you think called and made that threat. The murderer?" Della asked her boss.

"Could be," Mason said as he sat back down, "or it could just be someone who has been purchasing stolen paintings or jewelry, and doesn't want it to come out in the trial. Della, get on the phone. Call Paul's office and tell him to get a man over to the Brace's house. I want Mrs. Brace covered 24/7. Tell Paul to cover Tommy as well."

Della left the office to carry out Mason's orders.

2

The street in front of Steve Edwards' office building was empty. Paul Drake sat in his vehicle surveying the area. Perry asked him to investigate Edwards. Getting into his office was a priority. He was unsure of what he would find there since Lieutenant Tragg and his men already searched the office thoroughly, and Tragg was good. He rarely missed anything. Drake had to play this just right. He couldn't claim he was from the police. However, quite often when he flashed his private detective badge, many made the mistake thinking he was the police. It got him into more than one place he never would have been able if they realized he was a private detective. He certainly couldn't break in or pick the lot. Only private eyes on television got away with that.

Drake got out of his car, looked both ways, and crossed the street. He opened the door of the building and entered. Edwards' office was on the right, but the building manager was on the left. He would try Edwards' office first. There wasn't any reason to get the building manager involved unless he had to. The private eye reached for the knob and turned it. It surprised him that the door was not locked. He opened and went in. A cleaning lady was just about to start her work. She turned and looked at Drake.

"Who are you and what are you doing in here?" she demanded.

Drake pulled out his detective badge and waved it at the woman. "What are you doing in here? This office is supposed to be left untouched. The man who rented it was murdered."

"No one told me not to clean it," she said.

"Well, I'm telling you. You don't clean an office that could hold clues to who murdered the man," Drake told her.

"What clues? According to the papers, his partner killed him."

"He may have or he may not have. Now stop what you are doing and leave this office at once!" Drake mustered all the authority in his voice he could.

The woman stood there and stared at him. He thought she was going to stand her ground. Finally, she pushed her sweeper out of the office, moving on to the next. Drake wasted no time. If the woman went to the manager of the building, there wasn't any doubt he would be dealing with her.

He walked over to the desk and began opening drawers. Searching for something that could help Perry defend his client, Drake went through every piece of paper he could find. By the time he was done, he had not located a single thing that was of any use to Jack Brace's case. Either Lieutenant Tragg had already removed everything, or there was nothing to find in the first place. He went over to the file cabinet. Opening the top drawer, he began reading the names on the files. None of the names matched the people Drake was looking for. He opened a few files, but none of them were of any help. After taking pictures of some of the files, Drake closed the drawers. Maybe Perry could make some sense of them. He sure couldn't.

Tragg had obviously done a very thorough job. Paul couldn't see anything that could help Perry with the case. He looked around the room for anything he might have missed. Then he noticed the carpet was not secured to the wall behind the filing cabinet. It was probably nothing, but he was going to check anyway. What did he have to lose? He walked back to the cabinet, squatted down and reached behind it. Feeling along the way, he didn't feel anything. The carpet appeared flat. Still, it bothered him that it was not attached to the wall like the rest of the wall-to-wall carpet. He raised it and felt below it.

"Bingo!" he said, as he pulled a flash drive out from under the carpet. Tragg's men didn't do quite the thorough job Paul thought. He wanted to put the flash drive into a computer right away, but the police had confiscated Edwards' computer. Taking the drive without authorization could cost him his private eye license. Yet, how could he leave it behind without looking at it? He sighed and put the drive in his pocket. What he wouldn't do for Perry Mason. He would check the drive on the computer in his office and return it later. How he would return it, he didn't know. He would probably not be so lucky next time to find the office door open. Drake was taking a chance and he knew it. If there was anything on that drive that would hurt Perry's client, it would be evidence and the lawyer would be legally bound to turn it over to Hamilton Burger.

He made a decision. He would take it back to his office and take a look at the drive. If there was anything that would hurt Perry and his client, he would never mention it to him. That way Perry would not be legally bound to turn it over to Burger. Oh boy, he couldn't believe he was doing this! Concealing evidence would be a crime. Could he really do it? No, he knew he couldn't. He might as well head for Perry's office. His friend would never want him to put himself out on a limb this way.

Drake left the office, closed the door, and headed back to his car. As he pulled away, he spotted Lieutenant Tragg coming down the street. Drake quickly turned the corner and then again at the next corner. He hoped Tragg hadn't seen him. If he had, he would be looking for him right now. The lieutenant would want to know what he was doing in the same neighborhood as Steve Edwards' office building.

The private eye kept looking in his rear-view mirror expecting Tragg to put on his flashers behind him, and pull him over, but he never did. He drove all the way to the Brent building and turned his car over to the valet to park it for him. Drake entered the building and took the elevator to the floor his and Mason's offices were located. He went around the back of Mason's office. He didn't want to be seen entering the front in case Tragg had followed him discreetly. Paul had not spotted him, but that didn't mean he hadn't followed him.

When he arrived at Mason's private entrance, he knocked his code knock on the door with his knuckles. The door opened almost immediately. Della Street smiled at him.

"Hello, Paul. We were about to call you."

He returned the smile. "Hello, beautiful." Passing her, he headed for the overstuffed chair, threw his legs over one arm, and rested his back on the other.

Mason looked over at his friend and smiled. "Why do I get the feeling you are about to tell me you have been up to something you shouldn't have been?"

Drake shook his head. "It's a wonder I even still have a private detective license."

"What did you do?" Mason asked.

"I went over to Steve Edwards' office building. There was a woman in there about to clean the place."

"And you flashed your private detective badge, not letting her see it fully. She thought you were a police detective and let you stay," Mason said.

"That's right. If Tragg finds out and I'm sure he will since he was pulling up as I left . . . "

"You didn't tell the woman you were a police detective?" Della interrupted.

"Of course not," Paul said.

"Well, did you come up with anything that will help us?"

"I am not sure. There was nothing in the desk or the filing cabinets that would help, at least not that I could tell. I took some pictures for you in case you spot something."

"Let's see them," Mason said.

"Just a minute, Perry. That's not all. I found this." Drake reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive."

Mason looked at it. "What's on it?"

"I don't know. If I looked at it and found evidence that would help Burger convict him, I would have no choice but to turn it over to him. So, I thought I would let you make that decision." Paul stood up, walked over to Mason's desk and set the flash drive down in front of him. "If you don't want to look at it, then I suggest you give it back to me and I will return it to its hiding place."

Mason grinned. "Della, boot up the computer."

Drake shook his head. "I was afraid you would say that. I should have left it where I found it. One of these days, I am going to get myself in big trouble with Tragg."

"Don't worry about it. You have a very good lawyer," Perry said with a grin. "He'll make sure your cell is very comfortable."

Della booted the computer up while Mason and Drake waited. When it was ready, the lawyer slipped the flash drive into the USB port and pulled up the contents. He began reading it. The silence got to both Della and Paul.

"Well?" they said at the same time.

"Steve Edwards has been very busy. Apparently, Jack Brace is not the only person he has been blackmailing. Politicians . . . why are they always at the center of corruptions?"

"Not all politicians are corrupt, Perry. We know several that have helped us in the past, and they are not corrupt," Della said.

Mason ran his hand down his face. "That can't be said for some of our city council members. Take a look."

Della and Paul crowded around the computer. Drake whistled. "Looks like more than one person had a reason for wanting Edwards dead."

"Paul, I want all of these men checked out. I am going to get subpoenas for them to testify in court. I don't want you to deliver them just yet. Find out everything you can about their connection with Steven Edwards."

"Okay, you got it," Drake responded.

"I need to know where you found that flash drive," Mason said.

"Under the lining of the carpet behind the file cabinet."

"All right, you get started on our city councilmen."

"Perry, I need to return that flash drive to where I found it," Drake insisted.

"I'll return the flash drive just as soon as I get a friendly judge to allow me to get a look in Steve Edwards' office."

Drake sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that." He got up and headed to the private office entrance. Opening the door, he turned back to Mason. "You are not going to do something that is going to get both of us in trouble, are you?"

Mason grinned. "You worry too much. Just check out those councilmen along with Steve Edwards."

Drake shook his head and left the office.

Della looked over at her boss and lover. "What exactly are you going to do, Perry?"

"I am going to return the flash drive to where it was found." He grinned. "Just after I make a copy of it."

"That's what I thought. That's not all you are going to do, is it?"

"Della, get a friendly judge on the phone, for me."

She sighed and reached for the phone.

3

Mason pulled his vehicle up in front of the building that housed Steve Edwards' office. He looked around. He smiled when he didn't see any police in sight. It made his plan that much easier. Paul stated that he saw Tragg coming down the street as he pulled away from the building. Mason hoped Tragg had not spotted the loose carpeting behind the cabinet. If he did, the lawyer knew he would be accused of planting the flash drive.

"Della, call Paul and tell him to have one of his men call Tragg and give him a tip that I am here at the office looking for something the police missed. Then join me inside." Della Street removed her cellphone from her purse and dialed Drake's office. She watched Mason as he got out of the car and entered the building.

Mason immediately went looking for the office manager. As it turned out, she found him instead.

"Aren't you Perry Mason, the lawyer?" she asked.

"One and the same," Mason said with a smile, turning on the charm.

"You are defending the man that killed Steve, aren't you?" Her eyebrows lowered and her demeanor turned hostile.

"I'm defending the man accused of killing Steve Edwards. I don't believe he is guilty. I'm here to look over his office."

She shook her head back and forth. "No way, Mason. Lieutenant Tragg said you were not allowed in that office. He was very upset when your private detective said he was a cop and got inside."

"My private detective would never say he was a cop. He simply says he is a detective, which is correct. He is a private detective."

"Well, he didn't say he was a private detective," she complained.

"That is not against the law," Mason said. "He is not responsible if your people mistake him for a police detective."

"Maybe not, but I know you are not the police and you are not getting into that office. So, you can just turn around and leave."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that." Mason pulled out the proper legal papers. "This says I can go into Edwards' office and look around. The police have done so, and the defense has the right to do the same." Mason handed her the legal document. She looked it over at looked up at the attorney.

"All right, I guess I can't stop you then." She unlocked the office and walked away.

Noticing that she kept looking back at him, Mason waited until she was out of sight. He hurried into the office and headed directly for the cabinet where Paul Drake said he had found the flash drive. The big attorney reached down, pulled the carpet back and put the flash drive back in its hiding place. He then hurried back out into the hall. If Della called Tragg, he would be along momentarily. Mason didn't have long to wait.

He watched the door to the building. The apartment manager came out of her office. "Are you done looking around in there? I want to lock it back up. Lieutenant Tragg said to keep it locked until the police were done with it."

"I haven't even begun to look around," Mason said truthfully.

Lieutenant Arthur Tragg walked into the building and hurried over to Mason and the apartment manager. "Well, hello, Counselor. What brings you here?"

Mason knew Tragg knew fully well what he was doing in the building. Bless Della for being so efficient. "I am here to take a look around Steve Edwards' office."

Tragg smiled. "This is not the crime scene, Perry. You can't go looking around his office without the proper legal papers."

"He gave me this," the apartment manager said as she handed the legal document to the lieutenant.

Tragg looked it over knowing fully well Mason would've had everything in order. He just couldn't help playing mind games with the attorney. "Okay, Counselor, I suppose I will have to let you take a look around." Tragg pushed open the door, and with an exaggerated sweeping wave of his hand, invited the attorney to enter the office in front of him. Mason smiled and went in.

Looking back at Tragg, Mason said, "You don't have to hang around, Lieutenant. I wouldn't want to keep you from your important work."

"I'm doing important work right now, Mister Mason. I am here to assist the defense attorney any way I can." He grinned broadly. Mason just smiled back at him, knowing Tragg wanted to make sure he didn't find the flash drive.

Tragg watched closely as Mason began with the filing cabinet. Pulling out nearly every file in the cabinet, the lawyer scanned as much of the paper as possible. When Della entered the office, he put her to work checking files as well. After an hour and a half, he and Della had completed everything in the file. Neither one of them could find anything out of order. Edwards had been very careful to make sure nothing illegal would be located in the files. That information had been reserved for the flash drive.

Mason spent another half hour checking everything in the desk and looking around the room. Edwards had covered his tracks. There wasn't anything in the office except the flash drive that could help his client.

"I guess that is about it," Mason said. He took Della's elbow and headed for the door.

"Sorry," Tragg said with a sly grin.

Mason turned around to face him. "Sorry about what?"

"Sorry you didn't find anything that would help your client."

The lawyer simply smiled and said, "Good day, Lieutenant."

Still grinning, Tragg responded, "Good day, Counselor."Neither Mason nor Street said anything until they got to the car. Della was the first to speak up. "That certainly was a bust. There was absolutely nothing that can help us."

A grin spread across the lawyer's face. "Quite the opposite, Della."

With a look of confusion, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Tragg will find that flash drive. When he does, he will tell Burger about it, but neither of them is going to tell me about it."

"How in the world is that going to help?" Della asked in bewilderment.

"It's simple, Della. We could not have used the flash drive in court because Paul obtained it illegally. By putting it back and tipping off Tragg that it was there, we will now be able to force Burger to bring it out in court, and I'll be able to question the city councilman about it."

Della chuckled. "I should know there is always a method to your madness, and Arthur played right into it."

"That was the plan," Mason said, still grinning.


	16. Chapter 16

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 16

1

Perry Mason and Della Street entered the courthouse to the usual gaggle of reporters trying to get a sound bite for the headline of their respective newspapers. As always, Mason eased his way through the reporters and toward the courtroom. He had enough on his plate. He certainly wasn't about to give anything away concerning how he intended to defend Jack Brace. The case had been confusing enough without giving up information Hamilton Burger could use against them in court.

They entered the courtroom. Mason looked around. It was packed with spectators as usual. He expected nothing less. His name alone drew in crowds like no other attorney in the city of Los Angeles. The lawyer set his briefcase on the defense table before shaking hands with Jack Brace, who was already seated at the table.

"I am rather nervous, Mister Mason. Can I really beat this thing after the confession I made?" Brace asked.

Mason looked at his client and smiled. "You didn't make things easy for me, but don't worry, the truth will come out. It always does." Mason knew that was not always the case. There were, no doubt, men in prison who didn't commit the crimes they had been convicted of, but telling Brace that would only unnerve him. He was shaky enough as it was. He needed him to convey calm and innocence.

Judge Morgan Archibald entered the courtroom from his chambers. After looking around the room, he sat down behind the bench. Most criminal trials had a few curious spectators, but the courtroom was always full whenever Mason was the defense attorney. The man had quite the following due to his legendary antics and unbelievable record of successful defense of the clients he chose to defend.

"Mister Mason, I believe you requested to cross-examine the medical examiner and Lieutenant Tragg. That request was granted. Are you ready to proceed?"

"I am, Your Honor."

"All right then, the medical examiner will please return to the stand."

Hank Kessler stood up and walked to the front of the courtroom. He took his place on the stand and waited for Mason's onslaught of questions. He only faced him a couple times in court, and knew the man was a very capable attorney. He would have to be on his guard, or Mason could easily make any witness look like a fool on the stand.

"Remember, Mister Medical Examiner, you are still under oath," the judge said.

"Yes, Your Honor," Kessler responded.

"Go ahead, Mister Mason."

Perry Mason remain seated studying the medical examiner's report in front of him. "You stated the time of death was between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. Is that correct?"

Kessler shifted in his chair. He didn't know why, but he couldn't help feeling Mason was trying to trap him. He would proceed with caution when answering the attorney. "I did."

"What brought you to that conclusion?"

"When I examined the deceased, the body temperature had only begun to decrease. It had only dropped 1.5 degrees. His doctor confirmed Mister Edwards body temperature was a steady 98.6 degrees. When I examined him, it was only two hours after he had been discovered."

"But determining body temperature is not an exact science, is it, Doctor?"

"No, it isn't. There are many things that can influence the body temperature after death," he said.

"Including the size of the corpse, clothing and whether the room is temperate. Isn't that correct?" Mason asked.

"It is."

"What was the temperature in the room where the body was discovered?"

"From the police report I received, it was 76 degrees," the doctor answered.

"It is my understanding the body would cool much faster in cooler temperature," Mason said, "or more slowly in higher temperatures."

"That is true. The body will lose or gain heat until it reaches the equilibrium with the environment in which it is located."

"Than it is entirely possible the deceased could have cooled slightly slower, is it not? Thus confusing the time of death."

"I allowed for that when I said 7: 00 to 8:00 p.m. It wouldn't have cooled any slower than that."

"Couldn't the murder have occurred at . . . say, 6:45, or even as early as 6:30 p.m.?"

"No, I don't believe so."

"Why not?" Mason demanded.

"Because rigor mortis had yet to set in indicating the murder was committed shortly before it was found."

Mason had his opening. Crossing one arm over his chest, he stood up and picked up the medical examiner's report. "Doctor, isn't it a fact that rigor mortis generally starts setting in from about three to four hours after death, and peaks about 12 hours later? Thereby dissipating after 48 hours."

Kessel knew he had fallen into Mason's trap. Sighing, he answered, "Yes, that is correct."

"And rigor mortis had not yet set in?"

"That's right."

"Then the murder could have committed 4 hours earlier than you reported?"

Kessel shook his head. "No, not when you consider body temperature."

"All right. Let's talk about body temperature. What was the deceased wearing?"

The ME showed some discomfort. "He had on a wool suit."

Mason smiled. "Yes, it has been rather chilly, hasn't it? I suspect that is why he had the house heated to 76 degrees. Now, it is my understanding that what a deceased person has on can also contribute to body temperature, can it not?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"The heavier the clothing, the body would cool slightly slower," Kessel said.

"So couldn't that, plus the temperature in the room cause the body to cool slower."

"A little," Kessel answered, "but not enough to account for the body temperature at the time."

"I see," Mason said. He continued to glance through the report. "The body was also near a heat register was it not?

"Yes, but that would have minimal effect."

"Was he on a cold floor that would cool the body a little faster?"

"No, he was lying on carpeting."

"How is the body temperature taken?"

"Well, with a thermometer, naturally," he said to laughter in the courtroom. Judge Archibald banged his gavel to quiet the spectators.

Mason only smiled. "Naturally, but you couldn't very well put it in his mouth or use the kind that you place in one's ear."

"Of course not."

"Then how do you take it?" Mason demanded.

"Rectally."

"How accurate is that?"

"Fairly accurate."

"But is subject to error?" Mason asked.

"It isn't an exact science, if that is what you mean."

Mason walked back to the defense table and picked up a medical journal. "I have here a medical journal regarding determining the time of death. I would like you to take a look at it." The attorney walked over and handed it to the ME. "Tell me, is this a reputable medical organization that published this article?"

Kessel leafed through it. "Very."

"I draw your attention to page 56. Can you tell the court basically what it says about body temperature?"

The medical examiner took a couple minutes to scan the item. "It gives an alternative for taking body temperature."

"Could you explain that please?"

Hamilton Burger stood up. "Your Honor, I must object to this as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. The only method that applies to this case is the one which the medical examiner used."

Mason turned to the bench. "Your Honor, I have the right to question all aspects of how the doctor came to his conclusion as to time of death, including the reason he didn't use a more dependable method of making that determination."

"What other possible method could he have used?" Burger said in frustration.

"If I will be allowed to continue, I would like the doctor to explain it."

Judge Archibald said nothing for a moment before ruling in Mason's favor. "I am going to allow defense counsel this line of questioning. You may continue Mister Mason." Burger shook his head and sat down.

"Tell the court what method that article is talking about," Mason said to the witness.

"Well, it determines body temperature by measuring the liver temperature."

"And is that more accurate than taking it rectally?" Mason asked.

"Many medical examiners consider it to be a more accurate reflection for the true core body temperature."

"How is it done?"

"By making a small incision in the upper right abdomen and inserting the thermometer into the liver tissue."

"And this wasn't done?" Mason asked.

"No, it was not. I have used the other method for years, and am completely satisfied it is accurate enough," he snapped.

"Accurate enough to convict a man of murder when there is a better method of measuring body temperature? Couldn't it make a difference of whether the defendant was even there when the murder was committed?"

"Objection!" Burger called out.

"I withdraw the question." Mason said, having made his point. "Was there any other reason you didn't use this method?"

"It could affect the evidence if the thermometer is inserted into the liver near the wound."

"Pardon me," Mason said, "it is a wonder I didn't fail biology. I wasn't aware the liver was located in the back of the head."

The courtroom broke out in laughter as the spectators knew Edwards had been murdered with a tire iron. Hamilton Burger stood up and shouted angrily, "Objection!"

Archibald banged the gavel on the bench to quiet the courtroom. "Sustained. The remark will be stricken from the record."

"No further questions," Mason said as he sat down.

"Mister Burger, anything further?" the judge asked.

"No, Your Honor."

"In that case, the witness is excused. Lieutenant Tragg will return to the stand."

Doctor Kessel stepped down from the stand. Mason, he knew, had succeeded in making him look like a fool. He gave the attorney a look of disdain as he passed him and left the courtroom.

"Lieutenant, I will remind you, you are still under oath," Archibald said.

Tragg nodded and took the stand. He was determined not to allow Mason to do to him what he had done to the medical examiner.

Mason walked over to the witness stand. "Lieutenant, you testified you were called to the scene of the murder."

"That's right," Tragg confirmed.

"Can you tell me just exactly how that came about?"

"We received a call from someone in the neighborhood reporting that they thought was a shot fired."

"And who made that call?" Mason asked.

"They didn't give a name."

"Did it occur to you it could have been the murderer?"

"Objection!" Burger called out.

"I'd like to answer that, Mister Burger, if it is all right with you," Tragg said.

Burger nodded and looked up at the judge. "I withdraw the objection."

"We get calls all the time, Mister Mason, reporting all sorts of things. Sometimes people give their names; others are afraid of becoming involved so they refuse to give their names. Besides, murderers don't usually report that they just killed someone."

Once again the courtroom broke out in laughter. Mason detected a slight smile at the corners of the lieutenant's mouth. Not deterred, Mason waited until the judge quieted the courtroom before continuing. "But they might call it in if they saw an opportunity to have it blamed on someone else. Could that have been the case here?"

Burger stood up again. "Objection! Is Mister Mason expecting the witness to testify in what is nothing but a hypothetical question?"

"Sustained!" Archibald ruled.

"Lieutenant, when you arrived on the scene, did the defendant speak to you?" Mason asked.

"He did," Tragg said, offering nothing more.

"And what did he tell you?"

"He said he didn't kill Mister Edwards."

"But, you didn't believe him."

"Not when he was holding what turned out to be the murder weapon in his hand.

"Were there any finger prints on the tire iron?"

"It had been wiped almost clean, but than he was holding it with a handkerchief." Tragg smiled. "We did find a couple prints that matched the defendant. However, I couldn't be sure if they were placed there at the time of the murder or when I took the tire iron from him as his hand touched it at that time."

"So you don't know if the defendant found the bloody poker and picked it up with his handkerchief to inspect it? After all, he must have been shocked to see his initials, knowing that someone had just killed Mister Edwards with his tire iron."

"If you say so, Counselor, but he immediately confessed to the murder as soon as we got him to the station."

"Did you consider that since it was his tire iron, he might have thought his son had killed Edwards? Therefore, the confession was only because he was protecting Tommy Brace."

"There were other circumstances that collaborated his confession," Tragg answered.

"Lieutenant, are you aware Steve Edwards was blackmailing several of the people he and the defendant had been steeling for?"

"Objection!" Burger said, getting on his feet. "That was not part of the direct examination."

Mason turned to the judge. "The witness just said there was other circumstances that collaborated the confession. Defense has the right to explore those circumstances."

"Overruled, the witness will answer the question."

Tragg realized he had just allowed Mason to walk him into a trap. What was he getting at? What did he know, and how did he come to know it? "I thought there might be that possibility," Tragg said cautiously.

"Did you check Steve Edwards' office for any of that collaboration?"

"Your Honor!" Burger shouted.

"I already ruled, Mister Burger. Your witness said he had collaboration. Mister Mason is simply questioning witness about that collaboration."

Burger sat back down wondering how Tragg could have make such a mistake. What bothered him even more was where Mason was going with these questions. He was afraid that somehow he knew about the flash drive. Burger just didn't know how he could.

"Yes, we checked his office. So did you, in fact. You should know if there was anything that pertained to this case. After all, Counselor, you were there for over two hours."

"Yes, I was there . . . legally with a court order. What I would like to know, Lieutenant, was how you just happened to show up at the same time I was there."

Burger had to stop this. He now had no doubt Mason knew about the flash drive. He had to keep it out of the record until they were sure it could not destroy the case against Jack Brace. There were just too many motives on that flash drive. "Your Honor, I must renew my objection. Lieutenant Tragg is the officer in charge of the homicide. He has the legal right to check the office of the deceased."

"I don't believe Mister Mason is questioning that. He has asked how the lieutenant happened to be at the office at the exact same time. I don't see any reason why he shouldn't answer the question." Judge Archibald turned to Tragg. "Answer Mister Mason's question, Lieutenant."

Tragg shifted in his seat. "I received a phone call stating that you were going to be there, and that you were looking for something that would help your case."

"So, you showed up to make sure I didn't find it," Mason said.

"Objection!" Burger shouted.

"Sustained. Watch it, Counselor," he admonished Mason.

"My apologies," Mason said with a bow. He turned back to Tragg. "Lieutenant, did you find anything after I left that would have a bearing on this case?"

Damn Mason, he did know about the flash drive, Burger thought. He didn't believe for a moment that he just stumbled upon it with a fishing expedition.

"I . . . well, I . . . " Tragg stumbled.

"Well, did you?" Mason said, raising his voice.

Tragg looked over at Burger. He could see the district attorney was seething. Yet, he knew he had no choice but to answer Mason's question. Burger, on the other hand, was going to make one last attempt to stop the flash drive from becoming evidence at this time. "Your Honor, Lieutenant Tragg did find something, but we do not wish to present it at this time. It will be presented at the trial."

Mason turned to face the bench. "I believe this evidence that the Lieutenant found has a direct bearing on this case. In fact, I will go as far as to say that it would help the defense's case, and the district attorney is withholding evidence he is bound by law to share with the defense."

Archibald turned sharply toward Hamilton Burger. "That is a pretty serious accusation defense counsel has leveled. Now, I don't want to tell the district attorney how to put on his case, however, if you are withholding evidence that helps the defense, I must insist that it be produced immediately."

"We have every intention of presenting this evidence, Your Honor. Only it will be done at the trial," Burger said.

"If there is a trial." It was evident the judge was becoming irritated. He turned to Tragg and said, "Lieutenant, what is this piece of evidence?"

Tragg again looked at Burger apologetically. After hesitating, he said, "It was a flash drive concealed under loose carpeting behind a filing cabinet."

"And what is on this flash drive?" the judge asked.

"Steve Edwards' business dealings with some very prominent people."

"And you don't think the defense has the right to that considering what the victim did for a living?" The judge had the inkling they were dealing with blackmail.

Tragg said nothing. He turned his head to look at Mason. Realizing that Paul Drake had been in the office earlier in the day the flash drive was found, he understood what had happened. Drake had found the flash drive, and either he or Mason had seen what was on it, then put it back. After all, Drake would have removed it from Edward' office illegally. One of them must of returned it and placed it back where it had been found. Mason! Yes, of course! He had been standing outside the office when Tragg arrived. He claimed to have not yet searched the office. On that point, he hadn't lied. He went in, put the flash drive back and came out of the office to be discovered on the outside, thus giving the impression he hadn't been in the office. His more than two-hour search was not for evidence, but for Tragg's benefit. What was worse, he had walked them into making its discovery very much legal to use in court. It wouldn't have been otherwise if Drake had removed it.

"The District Attorney will make a copy of the contents of the flash drive and give it to Mister Mason. If you don't want to make it part of the record at this time, that is up to you. However, if it can help the defense, I have no doubt Mister Mason is going to want to make it part of the record when he puts on a defense." The judge's ruling came through a very stern voice. He would wait to see what was on the flash drive before dealing with Hamilton Burger.

Perry Mason turned around and smiled at Della. She looked down with a smile of her own on her face.

"Do you have any other questions for this witness?" Archibald asked.

"Yes, just one." He turned back to Tragg. "Lieutenant, I would like to know why Sergeant Holcomb held me outside the interrogation room when I arrived. I insisted on seeing Mister Brace, but he would not allow it. Did you give him instructions to stonewall me while you got a phony confession from the defendant? There were murmurs around the courtroom. Mason waited for Tragg's answer.

"I . . . well, I told him to wait until the defendant asked for his attorney. He didn't. He gave the confession willingly," Tragg answered.

"And with what you knew at the time, did you even consider the defendant only gave it because he thought he was protecting his son?"

"Objection! Asked and answered," Burger complained.

Mason turned sharply to Burger. "No, sir, it wasn't. When asked, the lieutenant simply said he had other collaboration with the confession."

With a nod to Mason, Judge Archibald said, "Overruled. Answer the question."

"No, I found the defendant with the murder weapon in his hand. I didn't consider it."

"So you kept his attorney cooling his heals while you got a confession that was only given to protect the boy, when I could have stopped him from incriminating himself since we could prove the boy didn't do it."

Tragg said nothing. Mason had already made a mess of his testimony. Unless forced, he wasn't going to answer. As it turned out, he didn't have to.

"I have no more questions for this witness, but I reserve the right to recall him," Mason requested.

"Granted. The witness may step down."

Tragg left the witness stand, went over, and sat beside Burger. "He knew about the flash drive all along, and we made it legal for him to use it against us in court. He walked us right into its discovery."

"Damn him!" Burger cursed. "I should have known. We get a call telling us Mason is going there looking for something, and what do we do? Run right over there and pick up what he had obtain illegally. Do you want to bet he already has a copy of it?"

"No. I don't make losing bets," Tragg drawled.

"Mister Burger, I believe the prosecution should now call its next witness," Archibald said, interrupting them.

Burger stood up. "The people call Tommy Brace to the stand."


	17. Chapter 17

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 17

1

Tommy Brace walked forward, opened the gate that separated the attorneys from the spectators, and took the oath before sitting down in the witness stand. He wasn't worried because he and Perry Mason had talked about his testimony before he'd been called as a witness for the prosecution. Tommy knew exactly what Mason was going to do on cross-examination. The attorney assured him he had spoken to his father, and he agreed with Mason. Otherwise, Tommy would have been concerned about his father's reaction.

He watched as Hamilton Burger approached the witness stand. Burger immediately turned his attention to Judge Archibald.

"Your Honor, this witness is the son of the defendant. He wasn't cooperative when we questioned him. Therefore, I'd like to have him declared a hostile witness so that I may ask leading questions." Burger looked back to see if Mason was going to object. The attorney remained silent at the defense table, and the expression on his face never changed.

"Your request is granted, Mister Burger. You may start your examination."

Hamilton stared into the eyes of the young man. His intention was to intimidate him, and set him off balance. He wanted to use this witness to destroy the defendant. "Mister Brace, did you know Steven Edwards?"

"Yes." Tommy remembered Mason had told him not to give any information other than what the district attorney asked for. He was not to offer anything. Mason had made that very clear, and had stated it on several occasions. Tommy had every intention of following Mason's advice.

"Exactly, how did you know him?"

"He was my father's partner."

"Come now, that is not the only way that you knew him. You also worked with Steve Edwards on a couple of jobs, didn't you?"

Tommy tried not to squirm in his seat. Mason had warned him that Burger was going to bring this up.

"I did, but I had no . . ."

"Just answer my questions. The court doesn't want to hear your opinion."

"I wasn't about to give you an opinion, Mister Burger."

Burger ignored him. "Did you know about your father's illegal profession?"

"I suspected it, but I didn't know about it until he admitted it recently."

"You went to the home of the Smiths? Isn't that true?"

Tommy cocked his head. He wasn't sure how to answer that question since he didn't know who the Smiths were. "I do not know."

"What do you mean you do not know? You were there, how could you not know?" Burger demanded.

"Quite frankly, I do not know any Smiths. You're going to have to be more specific, Mister Burger.

Perry placed to hand over his mouth. So far, Tommy was holding his own.

"All right, I'll be more specific. The home where Steve Edwards was murdered. Were you there the night of the murder? Is that specific enough for you? Burger snapped.

Mason immediately stood up. "Your Honor, I have to object. Mister Burger is badgering his own witness."

"Sustained!" Judge Archibald ruled. "It seems the witness is not the one who is hostile." The courtroom broke out in laughter, which Archibald immediately silenced them with his gavel.

An angry Hamilton Burger looked back at Perry Mason. Mason had represented the boy before he took back Jack Brace's case. Hamilton was certain that he had coaxed the boy in what to say and not to say. Despite the fact that he got the subpoena out immediately, he couldn't have stopped Mason from coaxing the lad. After all, at the time the district attorney's office obtained the subpoena, Mason was not Jack Brace's lawyer. He was representing Tommy Brace.

"Were you or were you not at the murder scene?"

"Yes."

"When did you get there?"

"I don't know. I didn't look at my watch. I just don't remember."

"Come now, you must have some idea of when you got there," Burger insisted.

"Well, I don't."

"Then we'll go at this from another angle. "You left your house before the time of the murder. Then you met up with Steve Edwards, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"In fact you sneaked out of the house."

"Yeah, I did."

"And you went to the Smith's house with him."

"That's right."

"And you went into the home with Edwards with the intention of stealing."

"That was Steve's idea, not mind. I was forced to go."

Hamilton toyed with the idea of revealing Tommy Brace was being blackmailed. He had Steve Edward's phone with the video showing him stealing the necklace from his prom date's home. The last thing he wanted to do was give Mason another person with the motive to kill Edwards. Burger didn't believe Mason would be able to reveal it. Jack Brace would never allow it. He would not allow his son to be accused in court. He knew what he needed to do.

"Tommy . . . "

"Mister Brace," Tommy said.

"Excuse me?" Burger said.

"I wouldn't consider calling you Hamilton, so pay me the same courtesy. Call me Mister Brace." Several chuckles sounded around the courtroom. The judge had a smile on his face.

Burger stared at him for a moment. "All right then, Mister Brace . . . " Slightly rattled, Burger regained his composure. "You went to the Smith's home with Steve Edwards. The two of you found Jack Brace was already there. Jack Brace and Steve Edwards got into an argument which ended in your father hitting Steve Edwards with a tire iron."

"No that isn't true."

"And then your father told you to get out so he could cover up what happen. Unfortunately for you both, Perry Mason and Paul Drake showed up, and shortly afterwards, Lieutenant Tragg."

Tommy said nothing. Burger seemed to be making it up as he went along.

"I have no more questions of this witness." Burger returned to his seat.

Mason sat still for the longest time, prompting Judge Archibald to say, "Mister Mason, do you intend to cross-examine this witness?"

Mason looked up, "Yes, Your Honor. I do indeed." He looked down at Jack Brace and nodded once. Brace returned the nod, acknowledging he knew what Mason was going to do. Mason walked over to the witness stand. "Mister Brace, I noticed Mister Burger didn't question you about why you went with Steve Edwards' to the Smith home. So why did you?"

Burger stood up, "Objection, Your Honor. As the defense attorney has pointed out, I didn't cover that in direct examination." He couldn't believe Mason was going to reveal this information. Jack Brace wouldn't have agreed to it.

The judge frowned. Looking at Hamilton Burger, he said, "Really, Mister Burger? You really want to object on those grounds? I think it is a perfectly reasonable question. You questioned the young man about meeting with the deceased and going to the murder scene. Mister Mason has the right to know why he went there with him. Overruled."

Mason turned his attention back to Tommy. "So, Mister Brace, how did Mister Edwards convince you to go with him?"

"He threaten me."

"He threatened you? How?" Mason already knew Tommy was about to testify about the video on Edwards' phone. The lawyer had no intention of bringing out the blackmail in which Edwards threatened to go to the police and strike a deal to roll over on his father. He didn't want that entered into the court record by Tommy.

"My girlfriend's father borrowed an extremely expensive necklace for her to wear to the prom. I found out where they were keeping it, and went to my girlfriend's house when no one was home. I broke into the safe and took it. I didn't know Steve followed me and videoed it with his phone. He threatened to give it to the police."

"So, you went to the Smith's home with Edwards to rob the Smiths, and the two of you got into an argument, did you not?"

"No, I simply couldn't do it. I decided I was only stealing to punish my father. I walked out on Steve."

"You expect this court to believe that Edwards could prove you stole that expensive necklace, and you just walked away?"

"That's right?"

"Isn't this what really happened? You got into an argument and you went out to your car, got the tire iron, returned, and killed Steve Edwards. Your father showed up and covered for you."

Jack Brace stood up and shouted. "Stop it, Mason! Don't you dare accuse my son of murder just because Steve was blackmailing him. Tommy was never at the scene!"

Judge Archibald banged his gavel several times. "Order in the court! The defendant will sit down immediately! Mister Mason, I suggest you get your client under control."

Mason walked over to the defense table. Della had both hands on Jack's arm, trying to pull him back down into his chair. Mason bent over the table and whispered, "Nice performance. Now, sit down, but look very angry at me."

"I didn't overplay that, did I?" Jack asked him.

"No, that was perfect."

"I will not tolerate such disruptions by the defendant in my courtroom. I suggest you keep your client under control," The judge admonished the defense attorney.

"Yes, Your Honor. My apologies to the court." Mason bowed and smiled at the judge.

Hamilton Burger watched both Mason and Brace with interest. He was positive that what happened had been staged. To him, Jack Brace's anger didn't look real. He was sure that Mason had worked that performance out with both Jack and Tommy. Otherwise, Jack Brace may have been completely out of control in his defense of his son. Mason was able to quiet him down entirely too easily.

"I have no further questions of this witness." Mason sat down beside his client.

"Mister Burger, do you have any redirect?" the judge asked.

Hamilton stood up. "Yes, in fact, I do." Dramatically, he walked over to the witness stand and looked directly into Tommy's eyes. "Mister Brace, did you kill Steve Edwards?"

"No, I did not."

Hamilton placed his hands on the witness stand. He turned and looked back at Mason. He then turned his attention back to Tommy. "Were you coaxed by Mister Mason with your testimony?"

"Objection! Mr Burger knows fully well I would not speak to one of his witnesses," Mason said.

"Actually, counselor, I know no such thing. I would like the question answered." Burger looked up at the judge.

"The witness may answer the question," The judge said overruling Mason.

"No, he did not coax me to say anything since he took the case back to defend my father."

"Did he coax you before he took the case back?"

Mason was immediately on his feet. "Objection! Mr Burger knows fully well that until I took over the case, Tommy was my client. Therefore, he cannot ask him anything that was said to me, or anything I said to him. That is privileged communication."

"Sustained! Mister Burger, you know fully well you cannot ask questions between attorney and client," the judge said sternly.

"Very well. I have no further questions of this witness."

The judge turned and looked at Tommy. "The witness may step down." Tommy left the witness stand. As he passed the defense table, he looked at Mason and smiled.

"Mister Burger, call your next witness," the judge ordered.

"The people call Paul Drake to the stand."

Paul stood up and walked to the front of the courtroom. Mason opened the gate for him as he passed through. Drake was sworn in and took his place in the witness stand. He waited for Burger to start his examination.

"Mr Drake, you are a licensed private investigator, is that correct?"

"It is."

"You occasionally work for Perry Mason, do you not?"

"Yes." Paul had learned a long time ago not to offer anything that Burger did not ask.

"And, were you investigating for him at the time of Steven Edwards' death?

"I was."

"And did you go to the scene of the crime with Perry Mason?"

"I did."

"What did you find when you arrived there?"

"Steve Edwards was dead."

"Didn't you also discover that the defendant was there?"

"We did."

"Was he holding anything in his hand?"

"He was."

Hamilton Burger was becoming irritated. Drake was deliberately answering him with one or two word answers. Hamilton was going to have to drag every single answer out of him. "What exactly did he have in his hand?"

"A tire iron."

Burger walked over to the evidence table. He picked up the tire iron and brought it back. Handing it to the private detective, he asked, "Is this the tire iron he had in his hand?"

Drake looked it over. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Is that or is that not the tire iron that Jack Brace was holding?" Burger snapped.

Mason stood up. "Objection! Asked and answered."

"The objection is sustained."

Burger could not believe it. "But, Your Honor, Mister Drake certainly knows whether that was the same tire iron. The defendant's initials are on it."

"Move on, Mister Prosecutor. The objection is sustained."

Hamilton was going to force Drake to answer the question. He knew fully well it was the same tire iron. "Mister Drake, were you aware that the defendant's initials were on the tire iron?"

"No, I was not. I did not touch the tire iron, nor did I inspect it. Therefore, I cannot testify that it is the same one."

Mason put his hand over his mouth to cover the smile that was threatening to break loose across his face. Paul Drake had testified dozens of times in court. He knew better than to give Hamilton any information he did not ask for. Burger only assumed that Paul knew the initials were on the tire iron. Perry didn't even know it at the time.

Exasperated, Burger changed the subject. "What if anything did the defendant say in your presence?"

"He immediately told Mister Mason that he did not kill Jack Brace."

"Yet, the man was dead and the defendant was attempting to leave with the murder weapon, isn't that right?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Burger exclaimed.

"No, sir, I don't. First of all, I had no way of knowing that the tire iron was the murder weapon at the time. Secondly, I have also no way of knowing that he was attempting to leave. He was in the room. He was holding the tire iron. That is all I can testify to."

"Exactly how was he holding the tire iron?"

"In his hand." There were a few chuckles around the room.

"He wasn't holding it in his bare hand." Burger's frustration was apparent.

"Objection! The district attorney is testifying for the witness."

"The objection is sustained."

The red-faced district attorney snapped at Drake with his next question. "He wasn't holding it in his bare hand, was he?" Burger turned and looked back at Mason. He dared him to object to that question. Mason, on the other hand, showed no emotion whatsoever.

"No he wasn't."

"Do I have to drag every answer out of you?" Burger growled.

Again, Mason stood up. "Objection!"

Before Mason could say anything else, the judge interrupted. "Sustained. Mr Burger, you will keep your examination of the witness within proper courtroom procedure."

Hamilton calmed down slightly. "My apologies to the court." He turned his attention back to Paul Drake. "Mister Drake, what was he holding the tire iron with?" Burger demanded.

"With a handkerchief," Drake answered.

"Wiping his fingerprints from it," Burger said.

"Objection!" Mason said.

With disgust, Burger said, "I withdraw the remark. I am done with this witness."

"Mister Mason?" the judge said, directing his attention to the famed criminal attorney.

"I have no questions of this witness, Your Honor," Mason said.

"Mister Burger, call your next witness."

"That concludes the prosecution's case, Your Honor. Having proven that a murder has been committed, that there is reasonable evidence to show the defendant had opportunity and motive to commit the murder, prosecution requests the defendant be bound over for trial."

"Mister Mason, do you intend to put on a defense?"

"Yes, Your Honor, I do indeed," Mason said.

The judge consulted the clock. "Since it is reaching the noon hour, court will adjourn until 2:00 p.m. this afternoon." Archibald banged his gavel and left the bench.

"How'd we do, Mister Mason?" Jack Brace asked.

"All in all, not bad. I'll see you this afternoon."

The bailiff walked over to the defense table and took Jack Brace away. Mason began picking up his papers and putting them in his briefcase. Smiling at Della, he said, "What do you say we pay a visit on William Adair. I have a feeling he knows more about this case than he is letting on. I am beginning to doubt that he only recused himself because he considered throwing the case. Something just doesn't set well with his excuse."

Paul Drake approached the defense table with a big grin. Mason returned the grin. "I could almost see the steam coming out of Hamilton's ears. Good job."

"Are we going across the street for some lunch?" Drake asked.

"Perry is hungry too," Della said. "Then he wants to slip in a meeting with William Adair."

"Good idea. I was about to tell you I don't think Adair left the case for the reasons he stated," Drake said.

"Why do you say that, Paul?" Mason asked.

"He has been dealing with some pretty shady characters."

"Like who?" Della asked.

"Let's talk about it over lunch," Mason said. "Then we will all go see Adair."

The three of them left the courtroom and headed across the street for lunch. Once they were seated, the waitress took their order and went back to the kitchen.

"Okay, Paul, spill it. What shady characters has Adair been dealing with?" Mason asked.

"Well, your two city councilmen who threatened you to start. But that is not the only ones he has been representing. He also has done some work for Roy Flynn and Mark Rogers. You are familiar with those two."

"Yes, they were both paying Jack Brace to steal items and then selling them on the black market. Also, Councilman Fredendall had a very expensive painting in his office which disappeared from the wall."

"Perry, I have no doubt both of the politicians are dirty. So are Flynn and Rogers. But, they are not really the ones I came to warn you about, even though both of them had a motive to kill Edwards. There is someone else you need to consider."

"Who are we talking about then?" Della asked.

"Just what I need," Mason groaned. "Another suspect."

"You are not going to believe it when I tell you," Drake said.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Mason said.

Paul told him. Perry and Della sat there in stunned silence. "Cancel our order, Paul. Let's go see Adair right now." They got up and left the restaurant.


	18. Chapter 18

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 18

1

Perry Mason pulled his Cadillac to a stop in front of William Adair's office building. He shut off the ignition and opened the door of his vehicle. He reached the office in a much shorter period of time than was normal.

"I don't know why I let you drive," Paul Drake said. "You drive like a maniac."

"For a man who usually drives a sports car, I would think you would be used to fast driving," Della said with a smile from the front passenger seat of the car.

"The car is for looks," Drake said as he got out of Mason's vehicle. "It attracts the ladies." Drake opened the passenger door, took Della by the hand and guided her out of the car. Mason joined them on the other side of the vehicle.

"Obviously the car is faster than you are with the ladies," Mason said with a grin.

"That's your fault. Whenever you have a murder case, I'm working around the clock. I don't have time to entertain a lady."

Perry and Della laughed at Paul's expense. They headed into the building toward Adair's office. Mason led the way down the hall. Looking around, he wondered why William Adair kept his law practice in the building. The carpeting was worn in dirty. The walls had not been painted in some time. Mason wondered if Adair realized his surroundings projected the success of an attorney. Even if he couldn't afford the more expensive offices in Los Angeles, he should at least be in one that was clean and kept up.

As the trio of friends arrived at the office which was marked William Adair, Attorney at Law, Mason reached for the doorknob, but when he tried to turn it, it didn't move. He looked back at Paul and Della. "It's locked."

"At this hour?" Drake questioned. "How come your office is never closed this time during the day?"

"There is a simple answer to that, Paul," Della said. "We don't close during working hours."

"Yeah, but you're working hours are 24 hours a day."

"So what now?" Della asked.

"We go see the superintendent of this building," Mason answered. He turned around and headed back toward the entrance of the building. He remembered seeing an office that said Superintendent.

"I don't understand," Drake said. "Why don't we just leave and come back tomorrow? You have to be in court this afternoon"

"I have a bad feeling," Mason answered him. "No attorney worth his salt is closed at this time of day."

"No attorney worth their salt would have an office in this building," Drake pointed out.

"I saw an office that said Superintendent to the left of us when we entered the building," Mason said. "Let's go talk to him." The lawyer didn't wait for either of his companions to respond. He turned around and headed back toward the entrance they used to gain access to the building. When the trio arrived at the superintendent's office, Mason reached down and opened the door. He looked back at Della and Paul. "Apparently, Adair's office is the only one closed." They followed him in.

He turned out to be a she. The woman sat behind a desk working on the paperwork in front of her. As they entered, she removed her glasses and looked up. Wanda Greer was a woman in her sixties. She had short gray hair, green eyes, and a crooked smile, which she flashed when they walked in. "Why, your Perry Mason, the attorney. I recognized you immediately." Her eyes narrowed. "What would a high price attorney such as yourself be doing in this dump?"

Mason raised an eyebrow. He looked back at Della and Paul, and smiled. "We are here to see William Adair. Do you know when he will be back?"

"Back? He's in his office right now. It is the fourth one down on the right," Wanda told them.

"Yes, we found the office," Mason told her. "However, the door was locked. He must have stepped out."

Wanda Greer turned around and looked out the window. Shaking her head, she corrected the attorney. "No sir, that's his car right there." She pointed at the Chevrolet outside her window. He always parks right there. When he leaves, he stops here and lets me know where he is going. He thinks I'm his secretary."

Della said, "Doesn't he have a secretary?"

"Oh heavens no. He let her go. I don't think his practice is going very well. Otherwise, he certainly would not have an office in this place. No self-respecting attorney could possibly expect people to come in here to consult him."

"If you feel that way," Paul said, "then why do you work here?"

"A person has to make a living, and I do not have any education or skills. I can't get a job much better than this one. Actually, I'm not paid that bad for what I have to do."

"Don't you think it would be a good idea if we checked his office?" Della said.

"Maybe he doesn't want to be disturbed," the super said.

"And maybe there is a problem," Mason interjected.

Wanda thought for a moment. Maybe they were right. If something was wrong, and she didn't check, she could be held responsible. She couldn't afford to lose this crummy job. Grabbing the keys, Wanda said, "Follow me."

She headed down the hall toward Adair's office. When she arrived, she found the door locked just as Mason said it was. It didn't make any sense. She came down to this office on many occasions, and never found it locked. The super rifled through the numerous keys and found the one she was looking for. Placing it in the lock, she turned it, and opened the door.

The lawyer pushed his way past her. "You ladies remain here. Mister Drake and I will check it out."

"I'm sorry, Mister Mason, but I cannot allow that. I must go into the office with you," Wanda said.

Understanding the position he was putting her in, Mason nodded his head in agreement. Leading the way, he entered the office. Paul and the building superintendent followed him in. Della entered the office, but stayed by the door.

There was a desk in front of the private office door. Mason noted that it was completely clear of anything other than a desk pad and a telephone. He couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary. Walking over to the office door, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. Not knowing what he would find on the other side of the door, Mason did not want to put his fingerprints anywhere. He turned to his companions, and said, "Don't touch anything."

The lawyer opened the door and entered the office. Drake was directly behind him. Mason immediately spotted a man lying face down on the floor behind the desk. Only his feet were visible. He hurried over to the man, stepped over him, and reached down to check his pulse. Standing up, he looked at Paul and shook his head.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave this office," Mason told Wanda Greer.

Not having spotted the man on the floor, she shook her head. "I told you, I cannot allow you in this office alone."

"Miss Greer, there is a dead man behind the desk. It is my duty as an officer of the court to report a murder."

"A murder! What are you talking about?"

"A man has been murdered, and I cannot allow the crime scene to be disturbed. Paul, take Ms Greer out of the office, please."

"Perry . . ." Paul objected. He did not want to leave the lawyer alone in the room.

"Do as I ask. I am going to call the police."

Drake didn't like it, but he knew his friend well enough to know that he wasn't going to change his mind. He led the superintendent out of the office.

Mason, using his handkerchief, picked up the receiver. He dialed the number to the precinct where Lieutenant Arthur Tragg worked. When the phone was answered, The attorney said, "This is Perry Mason. Put me through to Lieutenant Tragg. I want to report a murder."

After telling the lieutenant what he had discovered, Tragg ribbed Mason, "Another dead body, huh? At this rate, Mason, you're going to break last year's record. I don't have to tell you not to touch anything. On second thought, don't touch anything. Get out of that office, and close the door. Don't let anybody inside. I am on my way."

Mason hung up the phone. He went around the desk where William Adair laid face down. Despite that, he recognized the attorney. There was a pool of blood around the man's head. There couldn't be any doubt that it was murder. Only a bullet wound to the head would produce that much blood. Mason knew he only had a matter of minutes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pencil. Using the eraser end of the writing instrument, he began looking through the paperwork on Adair's desk. Most of it was nothing more than minor cases of divorce, property settlements, and other small cases. He couldn't spot anything offhand that could have led to the man's death. Mason noted that the calendar on the desk had yesterday's date. He flipped the page to the current date. The first appointment of the day simply said client. There wasn't any name connected to the appointment time, which was 9:00 a.m.

Mason wondered who the mysterious 9:00 client was. Did that person murder William Adair? If so, why? What did Adair know that he hadn't told him? After looking around for a few minutes, he decided he was out of time. He had to get out of the office before Tragg arrived.

The attorney checked the body of William Adair one last time and left the dead man's office. When he arrived out in the hall, Paul stood there with a worried look. "It's about time, pal. Tragg just pulled up in front of the building."

Wanda Greer left the group to meet the police at the front door. Tragg entered the building followed by a team of police officers. When he arrived at the scene, he shook his head at Mason and Drake. "That's two this month, boys. Do you think you could try refraining from reporting dead bodies?"

Mason smiled. "Sorry, Lieutenant, I'm an office of the court. I have a legal obligation to report a murder."

"Yeah, well, you want to tell me what you were doing here, Mason?"

"Back to calling me Mason," the lawyer said with a smile.

"Just tell me what you are doing here?" Tragg demanded.

"I wanted to see Mister Adair," Mason replied.

"What about?"

Mason just smiled.

"That's the way it's going to be, is it? Attorney/client privilege?"

"I am afraid so, Lieutenant," Mason said.

Tragg looked at Paul. "Well, Drake, you are not protected by attorney/client privilege. What are you doing here?"

"I asked him to come along," Mason said, speaking for Paul.

Tragg frowned at the lawyer. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Counselor, but your name is not Drake, now is it?"

"No. I was just telling you why Paul is here."

"I didn't ask you." Looking back at Drake, he said, "Well, what are you doing here?"

"Perry asked me to come along," the private eye repeated what his friend told Tragg.

"Of course, he," said Tragg, pointing at Mason, "didn't put that answer in your head?"

Paul smiled. "Of course not, Lieutenant. I can speak for myself."

Frustrated, Tragg dropped the subject. "Which one of you found the body?"

"I did, Lieutenant," Mason admitted.

"All right, you people stay here." Addressing one of the uniformed officers. Separate these people and question them." With a smirk directed at Mason, he said, "We wouldn't want them coordinating their stories, now would we?"

"Lieutenant, I am due in court shortly," Mason said.

"I already called the court," Tragg told him. "I explained to the judge what is going on here. He cancelled court until tomorrow morning." Tragg then disappeared into the office.

2

After two hours of questioning and investigation, Tragg finally allowed them to leave. When they arrived back at Mason's Cadillac, they got inside before anyone said anything.

"Perry, did you find anything useful? Drake asked.

"What makes you think I looked?"

Della rolled her eyes. "You were in there for ten minutes. You don't expect us to believe it takes that long to call the police do you?" She raised an eyebrow and smiled at her boss.

"Come on, Perry, what did you fine?" Drake asked.

"Not much. The cases on his desk were minor. I couldn't check those in the cabinets; they were locked. But, I did find one thing that might be important."

"What?" Della and Paul asked at the same time.

"The calendar had not been turned over to today's date. When I checked, he had a nine o'clock appointment."

"With whom?" Della asked.

"That is something we are going to have to find out. All it said was client."

"Do you think he was killed this morning?" Drake asked.

"Probably," Mason said. "I was able to ask Wanda Greer if she saw anyone come into the building at 9:00 this morning. She said she heard the door open at that time, but didn't bother to check. Her door of course is kept closed."

"Man or woman?" Della asked. "She should have been able to tell from how the person walked down the hall whether it was the high heels of a woman or the stride of a man."

Mason shook his head. "I asked her that, Della. She said she just didn't pay any attention. People come and go all day."

"Well, there goes a promising lead," Drake sighed. "How are we ever going to find out what kind of business he was doing with those city council members?"

"That's your job. There is a connection between them and Adair, which means they are connected to Edwards as well. I think we can narrow our suspects to all of these people. One of them probably killed Edwards. We just have to determine who did it. Then we'll likely have the killer of Adair as well."

"At least Jack Brace can't be tied to Adair's murder," Della said. "He couldn't have done it from a jail cell."

"Paul, can you get a taxi and drop Della at my apartment. I am going to go see my client."

"Sure, Perry. Anything you want me to do?" Drake asked.

"Yes, go home and get some sleep. There isn't anything else you can do tonight, it's getting late."

"That's a first. You're telling me to go home and sleep?" Drake said.

Mason ignored the remark. "Tomorrow, I want you to find out who was Adair's 9:00 appointment. Something tells me he was silence for a reason," Mason said.

Paul and Della got out of the car and watched as Mason drove away.

3

Perry Mason arrived at the jail. After being given a hard time about the lateness of the hour, he was granted access to his client. The attorney was led into a holding room as he waited for Jack Brace to be brought to him. When he arrived with a police officer, Mason thanked the officer and directed his attention to Brace. "Sit down."

Brace walked behind the table and sat in the chair. "What brings you here so late, Mister Mason?"

"William Adair," Mason said, watching his client closely.

"I don't understand. What about him?" Brace asked.

"When you fired me, you chose William Adair as my replacement. I want to know why you chose him and how?"

"What difference does it make? He is no longer my attorney, you are."

"Because it might have a bearing on this case," Mason said.

"I don't see how."

"I'll tell you how. William Adair was murdered today." Mason watched his client closely.

With a look of surprise that Mason didn't think was faked, Brace exclaimed, "What! Murdered, are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I'm the one that found him. Now, tell me how it came about that you chose him to replace me."

"I just picked his name out of the phone book." Brace looked away from his attorney.

Mason studied him. He had no doubt Jack Brace was lying to him. "Now you listen to me. The worst thing you can do is lie to your lawyer. It's the best way to end up with the death penalty. I don't care how bad you think something might be, but I don't like being blindsided in court. You are going to tell me how you chose William Adair as your attorney. And, don't give me this nonsense about picking him out of the phone book. What made you choose him?"

"All right, I'll tell you. I knew Bill Adair. Well, at least I knew of him through Steve. He used him a couple of times he got in trouble with the law. Steve was never as careful or as meticulous as I am. All I know, is Steve was never charged with a crime when Adair handled the problem. So, when I fired you, I contacted Adair. I knew his specialty was criminal law. I needed a criminal attorney. So, I called him. Funny, he asked me the same question."

"What question?" Mason inquired.

Rubbing his hands together, Jack Brace looked up at Mason. "He asked me how I chose him."

"And what did you tell him?"

Brace shrugged. "The same thing I just told you. I told him I picked him out of the phone book. He seemed to be disappointed."

"Then you never dealt with him directly?" Mason asked.

"No. I never did. You see, I was quite good at what I did. I really didn't need Steve Edwards. Unfortunately, I couldn't get rid of him. He knew too much about every job we pulled. As a result, I had no choice but to keep him on. He was pretty much useless when it came to what we did. He actually collected half the money for doing practically nothing. Steve never could have survived continuing to do what we did. That is why he wanted Tommy."

"Don't ever tell anyone else what you just told me. It's certainly would be a one-way ticket to the death penalty. It gives you all of the motive the district attorney would need to have you convicted."

"I don't think there's much chance of me telling anybody anyway. You are the only one I'm allowed to talk to. Well, they'll let me talk to my wife and Tommy, but I don't discuss my former profession with them."

"Is there anything else you can tell me about William Adair?"

Jack thought for a minute. "He wasn't very successful; at least not as a criminal attorney. He must have done well in some ways because I know for a fact that some of the people we stole from used him as an attorney."

"And who would these people be?"

"You already know, Mister Mason. Two of the city councilman used him extensively."

"Are you sure of that?" Mason asked.

"Of course I am. But what does that have to do with anything. Believe me, Adair would not have kept any records around that would prove he was working for them, and what they were up to."

"That's where you are wrong. He would have kept all sorts of records. It is the only way he could protect himself from them. He knew everything they were up to. If they tried to silence him, he could see to it that those records made it into someone's hands."

"Obviously, your theory isn't correct, Mason. He's dead, isn't he? It didn't do him any good to keep records, if he did."

"Oh, he kept them all right. We simply have to find out who has them now. There is plenty of motive to go around, and I intend to reveal that motive in court. If nothing else, I should be able to get you off on reasonable doubt. Quite frankly, that has never been enough for me. I want the real killer. He belongs behind bars, and I have no intention of letting him get away with murder"

4

Perry Mason arrived back at his apartment long after midnight. He unlocked the door, and turned off the alarm. Once inside, he turned his alarm back on. He moved quietly through his apartment so as to not wake Della. It turned out to be to no avail as his beautiful secretary came out of the bedroom in a bathrobe.

"I thought you would never get back. I was beginning to worry. Did you find out anything?"

Mason tossed his keys on the stand next to the door. Removing his suit coat jacket, he set it on the back of the closest chair. "I found out that William Adair is not the squeaky clean lawyer everyone thinks he is."

"His practice could not have been going very well, Perry. He wouldn't have been operating in that building."

"I have a feeling that was just a front. If he was doing what I think he was doing, there has to be a money trail. I intend to find out. Whoever murdered him, probably also murdered Steve Edwards."

Della walked over to the lawyer and put her arms around his waist. "Well, counselor, you're not going to solve this tonight. We have to be in court tomorrow morning. You need to get some rest."

Mason put his arms around her, and pulled her tightly to him. He bent down and kissed her. Soon, he was deepening the kiss.

Della tried to pull away from his grip, but was unsuccessful. "Do you really want to start this? Perry, it is very late. You need your rest."

Mason picked her up in his arms and headed for the bedroom. "I'll sleep like a baby afterwards."


	19. Chapter 19

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 19

1

Drake pulled his vehicle up to the office of Roy Flynn. They already checked on him, but didn't find anything that would indicate he was involved in the murder. Flynn had an alibi. He'd been at a meeting with over a hundred people in attendance. That didn't mean he couldn't have hired someone to kill Steve Edwards. Mason told Drake to investigate the city councilmen, and he would. But something told him Flynn was not telling them the truth. Paul wanted to know what it was, and he was going to try to get it out of him. The city councilmen could wait.

He got out of his sports car with a bit of difficulty. Either they were making the cars lower to the ground, or Paul was getting older and having trouble exiting the vehicle. It was beginning to become a chore. Fall in and crawl out. He looked both ways down the street and then hurried across to the building where Flynn did business. Opening the door, Paul entered. There were several offices in the building. Paul looked for the one with Flynn's name on the door.

When he spotted it, Drake entered. As he expected, there was a secretary sitting to the left of the private office of Roy Flynn. She looked up upon his arrival and smiled. Such a handsome man, she thought before saying anything to him. "Hello, may I help you?"

"I would like to see Mister Flynn," Drake said.

Confused, she checked her calendar. There weren't any appointments listed. Looking back up at Drake, she wondered if she should let her boss know he was here to see him. She decided she better find out what his business with Mister Flynn first. "I don't see you on his appointment calendar Mister . . . "

"Drake." Paul pulled out his private detective's badge and flashed it long enough for her to see, but not long enough for her to read it. It was a trick he had learned long ago. If they only saw the badge, they immediately mistook him for a police officer. He made sure never to say he was one, but if they made that mistake, it was to his advantage. It had gotten him in to see many people.

"Just a moment, Detective. I will see if Mister Flynn is available." She got up from her chair and went into Flynn's office and closed the door.

Drake took advantage of the time to check Flynn's appointment calendar. There were two appointments, and both of them were with city council members. Now what would he be seeing them for? Paul wondered. He stepped back when Flynn's secretary returned from his office.

"He will see you, but he told me to tell you that he only has a few minutes."

"A few minutes is all I'll need," Drake said with a smile. She opened the door for him and he stepped inside.

Roy Flynn put out his hand. "Detective Drake, what can I do for you?" Using a wave of his hand, he indicated for the private eye to sit down.

After he was seated, Paul told him, "I am here to ask you about Steven Edwards." The friendly look on Flynn's face turned to one of a hostile one. It was obvious to Paul the name struck a nerve.

"I don't know a Steven Edwards," he said, his tone short, bordering on rude.

"Then you don't read the newspaper?" Drake said.

"Of course I read the newspaper. What's that to do with it?" he snapped.

"Steven Edwards was murdered. I am here regarding that murder."

"Now just why would I know anything about that?"

Paul decided the only way to get anything out of the man was to push and push hard. "That's not what I hear. My sources tell me you were hiring him and Jack Brace to steal valuable artifacts and paintings. Then you would sell them on the black market.

"That's ridiculous! I have never even heard of a Steven Edwards, and I certainly am not buying and selling on the black market."

Paul leaned forward. "You said you are not selling them on the black market, so you are selling them on your own. How do you get in touch with those willing to pay you a big price for them?"

"I have no idea what the hell you are talking about"

"Oh, I think you do. My sources . . . "

"Then your sources are wrong or crazy. Either way I am not dealing in stolen valuables."

"Why don't we cut to the chase. If you answer me now, you may get out of testifying in court," Paul said.

"What the hell are you talking about, Drake? I have nothing to testify to. You are not a police officer. I recognize you now; you work for Mason. I am not going to be a witness for the defense. You tell Mason to go to hell!"

Paul reached into his pocket and pulled out the subpoena. "This says you have no choice, Flynn. So will you answer my questions, or shall I serve you with this?" Drake waved the subpoena around.

"You son-of-a-bitch!"

"Call me anything you want. You will answer Mason's questions one way or the other. So make up your mind. I don't have all day."

Flynn was furious, and he made no attempt to hide it. "Ask your damn questions and then get the hell out of my office!"

"First of all, you are trafficking in stolen art and artifacts, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you are talking about. I am a business man. I don't traffic in anything."

Paul smirked. "Do you think Mason is stupid? Keep it up and you will end up in court. Now, you are trafficking in stolen goods?"

"I'm not, but I know two of the city councilmen are. Donald Fredendall and Bill Mozat. Both of them hired Brace to steal valuable stuff for a price. Then they sell them to the highest bidder."

"How does one go about selling priceless paintings? Nobody in their right mind would buy them," Drake said.

Flynn laughed at him. "Were you born yesterday? It is easy to sell them on the black market. It is done on the internet. There are sites that do this all the time. You simply have to know where to look."

"And you know where to look?"

Flynn's expression turned ugly really fast. "Don't be a smart ass, Drake. Everyone knows there is a black market on the internet. You just have to know where to look."

"And do you . . . know where to look?"

"I have just about had it with you Drake. I suggest you leave."

"Not just yet. How do you know the councilmen were hiring Jack Brace? Paul asked. He watched Flynn closely. He could tell he hit a nerve. From the man's hesitation, he could tell he had not anticipated the question. Flynn was trying to come up with an answer.

Finally, Flynn said, "I heard it somewhere."

"Where and from whom?"

"I don't remember. Just somewhere. That's all. Now leave my office. I have nothing further to say."

Drake dropped the subpoena down on Flynn's desk, then turned to go.

"Wait a minute here! You said if I cooperated, I wouldn't have to testify!"

"Actually, I didn't. I believe what I did say was you could answer my questions here or in court. You answered them which I appreciate. Now you can answer Mister Mason's questions. I am sure he will have some I didn't think to ask." Drake smiled and left his office.

"Damn it!" shouted Flynn.

As Drake passed the secretary's desk, she grabbed his arm. He looked down at her, and she put her finger to her lips. Standing up, she led Drake out of the office and outside the building. "I wanted to talk to you. I know Roy has a phone conference, so I won't be missed."

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Paul asked.

"Something has been going on here for quite some time. Roy keeps bringing things in wrapped in brown paper. They are rectangular and of all sizes. Also, he is bringing boxes in. Whenever I asked him what he has, he told me to mind my own business. I heard part of your conversation, Mister Drake. And I believe he has been doing exactly what you said. I don't want any part of it if he has been engaging in illegal activities. Furthermore, he was not honest with you. He knew Jack Brace. He has been in this office several times. I recognized him immediately when I saw his picture in the paper."

"What's your name?"

"April Tompkins."

"Well, April, Mister Mason is going to need you to testify in court."

"Do I have to?"

"You can take the chance of being indicted if Flynn claims you helped."

"But, I didn't help him Mister Drake."

"Unfortunately, it might not matter," Drake bluffed.

"Well, then I guess I don't have a choice. I'll testify."

"Good. Is there anything else you can tell me?"She reached in her pocket and pulled out a key and handed it to Drake.

"What's this?"

She smiled. "The last time Steve Edwards came in here, he dropped that key. I assume since it has WFB on it that it is a safety deposit key at Wells Fargo Bank. You might want to check it out."

Holding the key in his hand, Paul smiled. "Thanks. I am sure Mister Mason will appreciate it. You be careful now, you hear?"

She nodded at him and watched him get in his car and drive away.

2

Perry Mason and Della Street drove out of town after leaving word with Paul Drake where they were going. Mason hoped they were one step ahead of Lieutenant Tragg. Something really bothered him about William Adair. Della was right when she said Adair could not have a very successful legal practice, or he would not be running that practice from the building he was in. He had to find out more about him. Something told him that Adair was involved in this entire mess. He had thought the man was an honest attorney, but now everything pointed to the opposite. Mason was determined to dig further into the man's life. Somehow, he thought it would lead to a solution to the case.

As he drove through the country, he realized Della had been silent throughout the trip. "You haven't said a word since we left the office."

"Neither have you." She smiled at him. "I can tell when you need to be left to your thoughts. Are you ready to share them?"

The attorney returned the smile. Della seemed to know him better than he knew himself at times. He had been lost in his thoughts. As usual, he decided to share them with her. Della had the ability to make him think and examine every aspect of a case. "William Adair was not the squeaky clean lawyer I thought him to be."

"That has become obvious, Perry. What are you thinking?"

"If what I expect is true, we may very well have discovered the answer to this entire case."

With a surprised look, Della said, "You have not indicated that you had the solution to this case. What has changed your mind?"

"William Adair's murder. Hopefully, Paul will find out a bit more when he goes to see Roy Flynn. If I am right, the solution to this case has been right in front of me all along."

"Do you want to let me in on it? So far, I can't see it."

Mason grinned. "In due time, Della. Let's make sure I am right first."

As the Cadillac slowed in front of the cottage, Mason brought the vehicle to a stop. Turning off the ignition, he got out of the vehicle and went around to the passenger side. Always the gentleman, he opened the door, took Della's hand and guided her out of the vehicle. Taking her by the elbow, he led her up to the door of the cottage.

"Stay here while I check for an alarm system."

Della waited as she watched him walk away. A few minutes later, he returned.

"No alarm system. Come on Della, let's go in."

"Just how are you planning on getting inside, Mister Mason?"

With a mischievous look, Mason reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

"Now just where did you get that?"

"I picked it up when I was in William Adair's office."

"How do you know that it is a key to this cottage?" She asked crossing her arms across her chest.

"I don't. It has to be a key to something, so why not this cottage?"

Della shook her head and smiled. She waited as the lawyer attempted to put the key in the lock. She watched as it fit perfectly, and he turned it to the right, releasing the deadbolt lock. Mason turned, looked at Della and grinned. "You never know until you try."

Amused, she waited until he opened the door. "Don't touch anything. We do not want to leave any fingerprints inside."

"Perry, isn't this breaking and entering?"

He shrugged. "It is definitely entering, but how could it be breaking since I have a key."

She raised an eyebrow. "A key you removed from Adair's office."

"A small technicality," he said with a smile. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Oh Perry, this is beautiful. How do you suppose he afforded this cottage?"

"Obviously, it was not on the money he was making as a lawyer. It looks to me like he was making money on the side. When I glanced at his books in his office, he certainly wasn't making the kind of money he would need to afford this place. I knew right away we needed to check into him much closer."

"But you didn't find anything in his office that indicated he was making money on the side," she pointed out.

"He wouldn't have kept it in his office. That would be the first place the police would search if they ever got wind of what he was up to."

"Did Lieutenant Tragg find anything in his home in Los Angeles?"

"If he did, he certainly didn't share it with us. I doubt it though, Della. I am wondering if our esteemed lieutenant knows anything about this cottage. There is no indication that the police have been here."

"If Arthur doesn't know anything about it right now, he certainly will eventually."

"Which is why we are going to take a look around right now before he finds out about it."

"What exactly are we looking for?" she asked him.

"We will know when we find it."

Della opened her purse and removed a pair of gloves. She always carried them as she never knew when Perry was going to enter a place where he didn't want them leaving fingerprints.

Mason glanced around the living room. He knew from experience that the furniture was expensive. There were paintings on the wall that no unsuccessful attorney could possibly afford. In fact, Mason was certain that a couple of them were famous paintings that no one could own. One he recognized as a painting that was on display in the museum less than a year ago, and disappeared at its next stop. The crime was still unsolved to this day. There were statues in the corner of the room that looked extremely expensive. Mason prided himself on the ability to recognize quality when he saw it. He didn't believe for a minute that Adair could afford what was in the cottage. Nor could he understand why the cottage was not protected by an alarm. If thieves ever got the idea of what was in here, they certainly would break into the place and removed the valuables.

Mason left the living room to check for an office. If Adair was going to keep anything regarding his extracurricular activities, he likely would do it in an office. He checked to see where Della was, but she had disappeared from the living room. Mason went down the hall looking for a private office. The first two rooms were bedrooms. He went inside, checked the drawers in the nightstands and dressers before deciding there was nothing there that could help him. After checking the other rooms, it became obvious that Adair did not have an office in the cottage. Mason went to check on Della.

He found her in the utility room. She was pressing on the wall above the washing machine. He watched her for a minute wondering what she was doing. Finally, he walked over to her. He put his head over her shoulder. "What are you doing, Miss Street?"

Startled by his sudden appearance since she did not hear him come in, she jumped slightly. "Don't do that! You scared a year off my life."

"I doubt that. You'll probably outlive me. Anyway, do you mind telling me what you were doing?"

"Feel this panel, Perry. It appears to be loose." She pressed on two or three more of them. "None of these are loose. Only this one."

Mason reached over her and pressed on the panel in question. Della was right. The panel appeared to give under his fingertips. Mason pressed harder in the panel popped open. Behind it was a square opening which contained some papers. He looked down at his secretary and smiled. "Nice find, Miss Street."

"Well, one of us had to be productive in here."

With a chuckle, the lawyer reached up and removed the papers from its hidden compartment. Making sure to use his handkerchief, Mason began looking through the paperwork. After a moment, he whistled. "It seems Mister Adair was into a lot more than we ever realized. He apparently has been consulted by our city council members, as well as several businessmen in the city. He kept perfect records as to what he has done with them. Not only that, but he has made notes of his thoughts. Take a look at this, Della."

Taking hold of his wrist, she turned the papers toward her and began reading. After a few minutes, she looked up at her boss. "Holy mackerel, can you believe this? Perry, this could put a lot of people in jail."

Mason pursed his lips. "The problem is how do we get a hold of these. We certainly can't take them with us."

With a smile, Della raised an eyebrow. "It didn't seem to stop you from picking up that key from Adair's office."

"Are you going to keep reminding me of that?" he said with a smile.

"Yes, if it keeps you out of trouble."

Mason only grinned. "Maybe Paul has come up with something that will help us get a search warrant for this cottage. Get out your camera and take pictures of those pages. At least we will have a copy of them." It took Della a few minutes to take pictures of all the papers Mason indicated he wanted. Once she was finished, they were ready to leave.

As they headed for the door, Mason stopped Della before she could open it. She looked up at him with a questioning look. "Aren't we leaving?"

"Yes, but not by the front door. I just spotted Tragg's vehicle pulling up in front. I don't want to be found in here. We will go out the back door." Mason locked the door, took Della by the elbow, and hurried out the back door of the cottage.

"Perry, this will not do us any good. Arthur will recognize your Cadillac."

Mason said, "Maybe, Della, but I have no intention of allowing him to find us inside. I don't want to have to explain how we got in here."

Cutting through the yard, they crossed the neighbor's property and came out on the other side. Mason then walked his secretary around the block. When they came up on the cottage, the lawyer noticed there wasn't any address numbers on the home. Arthur Tragg was standing at the door with a uniform police officer.

Seeing Mason, Lieutenant Tragg frowned. "Why is it, I seem to run into you everywhere I go."

Mason smiled, "Just lucky, I guess."

"Yeah right. And I've got the other half of the Brooklyn Bridge for sale. Would you like to buy it?"

The lawyer had to hold back a grin. "No thanks, Lieutenant. Neither Della nor I have any inkling to live in New York. We like Los Angeles just fine."

"That's too bad." Tragg's tone was sarcastic. "Have you been inside?"

"Through a locked door?"

The veteran lieutenant squinted and said, "How do you know it's locked?"

"I am just assuming that it is," Mason answered.

"Come on, Perry. Do you want to tell me what you are doing here?" the lieutenant asked.

"Just following up a lead."

"And what would that lead be?"

"Now, you know better than to ask me about the work I am doing for a client."

"William Adair could not be your client. He's dead as you well know."

"I didn't say he was my client." Mason smiled.

"Then who are you here for? Tragg demanded. Mason remains silent.

"Why are you interested in who killed William Adair? You really don't think it has anything to do with Jack Brace?"

Still, Mason said nothing. The smile returned to his face.

Frustrated, Tragg snapped, "Well, since you won't cooperate, I have no intention of allowing you inside. That is, unless you have a court order."

"No, no court order."

"Then I suggest you be on your way."

"Good day, Lieutenant," Mason said with a nod. He took Della by the elbow and began walking away from the cottage.

"Just a minute, Mason!" Arthur Tragg called out. "You don't give up that easily. What are you up to? Have you been inside?"

Perry and Della turned around. "Through a locked door, Lieutenant?" Mason was careful not to lie to him. He didn't want it to come back to bite him if somehow the lieutenant was able to determine he had indeed been in the cottage.

"Just get out of here!" The police lieutenant made no effort to hide his impatience and frustration with the lawyer.

Mason smiled one last time. "Have a nice day, Lieutenant."

"I might do that if I would quit running into you. At least this time, there will be no dead body inside."

Perry couldn't resist. "Are you sure of that?" He turned around and led Della back to his Cadillac.

Lieutenant Tragg stood there for a moment. It couldn't be? Could it? He hurried to unlock the door to the cottage.

When Mason and Street were back in his Cadillac, he turned the ignition and pulled the vehicle into the street.

Della remarked, "That was close."

"Too close," Mason agreed. "If he had made it a few minutes earlier, we would have been on the other side of the cottage, and I would not have known he had pulled up in front."

"All right, counselor. What next?"

"We're going back to the office. I want to get an update from Paul."

3

Paul Drake entered his office with a spring in his step. His day had been fruitful and would definitely help Perry's client. He was going to be extremely happy with the information Paul had found out.

Looking at the receptionist, he asked, "Has Mister Mason called in yet?"

"No, Mr Drake, we have not heard from him."

"Call his office and see if he has returned," Drake ordered.

"Right away, Mister Drake." She dialed the lawyer's office, and did not have to wait long for an answer.

"Mister Mason's office," Della Street answered.

"Miss Street, Mister Drake would like to come down and see Mister Mason."

"Send him down. Mister Mason will see him right away."

She hung up the phone and turned to her boss. "He's in his office, and he will see you right away."

Without saying anything further, Drake headed out of his office, sprinted down the hall, and knocked on the private entrance to Mason's office. The door opened, and Della Street stood on the other side.

"Hello, Paul. We were hoping you would be in. Perry is waiting for you."

"Hi Beautiful, have I got news for the two of you!"

Mason stepped into his office from the law library. He walked around and sat down in the executive chair behind his desk. "Okay Paul, what have you got for me?"

"I have to apologize first off," Drake said.

Mason lowered his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I believed all long that either your client or his son killed Steven Edwards. Since we can account for Tommy's time, I was sure your client was the killer. But, he didn't do it."

"What made you change your mind?" Della asked.

Drake reached into his pocket and pulled out a manila envelope. He tossed it on Mason's desk. "That's what has changed my mind."

Mason opened the manila envelope and removed its contents. After a few minutes of scanning through it, he looked up at his private detective and grinned. "I think it is time we end this case."


	20. Chapter 20

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 20

1

The courtroom was packed with spectators and news media as it always was when Perry Mason was the defense attorney. He led Della Street into the courtroom with his hand on her elbow. It took the attorney and his secretary a few moments to push their way through the crowd of reporters shouting questions at him. Mason just smiled and repeatedly told them "No comment."

As he approached the defense table, young Tommy Brace walked up to him. "Mister Mason, you haven't kept me informed about my father's case. What is going on? Have you found out anything that will help him?"

The lawyer patted the boy on the shoulder. "Everything is going to be all right. Don't you worry. We are doing just fine." Not giving the young man any further chance to question him, Mason walked around him through the gate that separated the spectators from the lawyers, defendant, and the judge. He was greeted by Jack Brace.

Brace displayed a look of concern, but said nothing to the attorney. He simply shook his hand and sat down. Della took her place on the other side of Brace. Mason opened his briefcase and sat down. He pulled out several sheets of paper and spread them across the table. He was feeling better than he had been about the case. With a little luck, he was hoping to end everything today. Mason believed he knew who murdered Steven Edwards.

Judge Morgan Archibald entered the courtroom. The bailiff called out, "All rise." As was customary, everyone in the room stood up. Archibald took his place behind the bench.

"Be seated. Mister Mason are you ready to present the defense?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Mason responded.

"Then call your first witness."

"The defense calls Roy Flynn to the stand."

Flynn stood up and headed for the front of the courtroom. As he passed Mason, he gave him a look of disdain. He couldn't believe he was being forced to testify. Worried what Mason might do, he took his place in the witness stand. After being sworn in, he waited for the onslaught from the esteemed attorney.

Mason stood behind the defense table and glanced through his paperwork. He didn't need to; he just wanted to keep Flynn in suspense, with the idea of making him more nervous than he already was. Finally, he looked up at him. "Mister Flynn, you deal in stolen art, is that correct? You buy them from Steven Edwards, isn't that correct as well?"

"No! I certainly do not, and I do not know Steve Edwards either."

Hamilton Burger stood up. "Your Honor, Mister Mason is well known for accusing just about everyone he puts on the stand. Mister Flynn is not on trial here."

Archibald looked over at Mason. "Counselor, do you have a reason to believe this witness deals in stolen art?"

"Yes, I certainly do," Mason answered.

"Then if that was an objection, Mister Burger, I am going to allow Mister Mason to continue. However, I caution the defense attorney I will strike the testimony if I feel it is not relevant. You may proceed, Mister Mason."

Mason nodded at Della. She got up and left the courtroom. The lawyer walked back to the witness. "Would you like to change your testimony regarding the stolen art?"

"Absolutely not!"

"This is your last chance to head off a perjury charge," Mason warned. Flynn said nothing. He just sat there staring at Mason.

Della Street walked back into the room with a painting in her hands. Mason watched Flynn closely. His face paled when he saw what Della was carrying. "Last night, Mister Flynn, I got a court order to search your private vault, which by the way was not locked." Della stepped forward and handed the painting to Mason. He turned it around to face the witness. "Does this painting look familiar?"

"Now just a minute . . . it is not as it seems!" Flynn stood up in the witness stand.

"Mister Flynn, sit down," Judge Archibald insisted. Flynn slowly sat back down. His eyes were burning with hatred for the famous attorney.

"You had no right. I am not on trial here."

"No, you are not, but perhaps you should be. Now, tell the court how you acquired this painting. Just for the record, this painting was stolen from the Museum of Arts and History in New York City."

"I had no way of knowing that when I purchased it."

"Purchased it from whom?"

"Jack Brace, but he assured me it was acquired legally."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "When exactly did you receive it from the defendant?"

"Well . . . I . . . am not . . . certain," he stammered.

"Well, I am." Mason went back to the table. He brought back with him a police report. "This report from the New York Police Department states the painting was stolen from the museum last November, the 29th to be exact. Do you know where Jack Brace was at that time?"

Hamilton Burger stood up. "Objection! Is the witness really supposed to know where the defendant was at any given time?"

"The objection is sustained."

"All right, instead of asking you, I'll tell you. He was in England taking a vacation with his family," Mason informed him.

"Your Honor, what has the defendant's vacation have to do with this case?" Burger complained.

"I'll tell you what it has to do with it. Jack Brace did not steal that painting. Nor did the witness get it from him."

"Overruled."

"Where did you get the painting?" Mason demanded.

"I told you where I got it."

"That isn't possible. You received it from Steve Edwards, did you not?"

Flynn looked down. Damn Mason! "All right, I got it from Steve Edwards! So what."

"So what?" Mason said with feigned surprise. "You said earlier you didn't know him." The attorney walked back to the defense table and brought back a paper. "Do you recognize that note?" He handed it to Flynn.

Flynn's face again turned pale. "I received it. I don't know who it is from."

"We had it checked by a handwriting expert." Mason turned around, and a man stood up among the spectators. "Mister Hank Munson will testify the handwriting belongs to Steven Edwards."

"Okay, okay. I know Edwards wrote it."

"Read it to the court." When Flynn didn't respond, Mason raised his voice, "Read it!"

"Flynn, this painting wasn't easy to get, and I did it without the help of Jack Brace. You will retain my services, or I will as promised, turn over my journal to the police showing your purchases of stolen art and artifacts." Flynn sat in the witness stand with a look of defeat.

"So you were being blackmailed, were you not?" Mason thundered.

"All right, he was blackmailing me!" he shouted.

"Where were you on the night of the murder?" Mason asked.

"Home with my wife."

Mason was waiting for this answer. Paul had questioned her early in the morning. She was very upset to find out what her husband was up to. She had filed for divorce, and learning he was hiding money from her, ill gotten or not, made her furious. "No, Mister Flynn, she made it clear you didn't come home all night. She said she had filed for divorce and you were not living at the house most of the time. I can call her to the stand if necessary."

"I don't remember where I was!" he snapped.

"So you were being blackmailed by the deceased; meaning you had motive and opportunity to kill him, and you have no alibi," Mason said.

"I didn't kill him."

"So you say," Mason said with a smile. "Did you use the services of William Adair?"

"I have on occasion."

Mason wanted that question answered as it would be important later on. "I have no more questions of this witness.

Burger decided not to stir up the hornet's nest Mason had found. He still had Brace's fingerprints on the murder weapon. "No questions."

"You may step down. I suggest the district attorney pursue perjury charges against this witness. Mister Mason, call your next witness."

"Defense calls Mark Rogers to the stand." After Rogers was sworn in, Mason picked up the journal of Steve Edwards and walked over to the stand. "Mister Rogers, you knew Steven Edwards, did you not?"

After seeing what Mason did to Roy Flynn, he knew it would be stupid to deny it. He was in enough trouble as it was. There wasn't any sense in adding perjury to the charges he would face. "Yes, I knew him. He and Jack Brace stole paintings and artifacts, which I bought and then sold for a profit."

Mason was a bit surprised he would openly admit it, but then he saw what happened to Roy Flynn. "Did Edwards approach you about continuing after Jack Brace quit?"

"He did."

"And you told him no."

"I did at first, then he had that journal. He threatened to take it to the police. So I had no choice but to agree."

"Where were you on the night of the murder?"

Rogers smiled. "Sorry, Mason, but you can't hang the murder on me. I wasn't even in Los Angeles. I was in Phoenix, Arizona at a real estate convention. You will have to look for your murderer elsewhere."

Mason smiled back at him. He walked back to the defense table. Della handed him a paper. Upon returning to the witness, Mason said, "According to the airlines you returned to Los Angeles and arrived at 4:00pm. That was plenty of time for you to commit the murder."

"Well I didn't, and you can't prove I did," he said smugly.

"Oh, Your Honor, Is Mister Mason going to accuse all of his witnesses of murder?" Burger complained.

Archibald looked over at Burger. The district attorney's face was extremely red. Burger tried many cases in his courtroom, but only one defense attorney caused this reaction. Archibald wouldn't be surprise if Burger was on blood pressure medicine solely because of Perry Mason. "I don't believe that is what Mister Mason is doing, Mister Burger. He has the right . . . no, he has the obligation to show that his client is not the only person with the motive and opportunity to have committed the murder, if that is the case. He would not be doing his job otherwise. "You may continue Mister Mason." Burger sat down heavily in disgust.

"Where were you at the time of the murder?" Mason demanded.

"I don't remember," he snarled back at the attorney.

"You don't remember?"

"That's what I said. It doesn't matter where I was, Mason."

"It does if you were at the residence where Steven Edwards was murdered."

"Well, I wasn't," Rogers growled.

"No?"

"No."

Mason smiled. "No more questions."

The judge turned to Burger. "You may cross-examine."

Burger stood up. "I don't see any reason to cross-examine this witness. Mason is just using his usual razzle dazzle to muddy the waters."

"That will be enough, Mister Burger. I will not tolerate personalities in my courtroom," Archibald admonished.

Burger bowed. "My apologies, Your Honor."

"Don't apologize to me. Mister Mason is the injured party here."

The district attorney turned to Mason and gave him a slight bow, but no apology was forthcoming.

"Call your next witness," Archibald said with a frown directed at Hamilton Burger.

"The Defense calls City Councilman Donald Fredendall to the stand," Mason announced.

As Fredendall passed Mason he said only loud enough for the lawyer to hear. "You will pay for this Mason. I intend to make your life miserable from now on." Mason only smiled, waiting for the councilman to be sworn in.

The door to the courtroom opened, and Paul Drake entered. He headed straight for Perry Mason. When the attorney noticed him, he turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, may I have a moment?"

"Go ahead Mister Mason, but no more than a moment."

"Perry, have I got news for you!"

"I could use it. So far, I have not been able to break these witnesses down on the stand. I can prove they had motive and opportunity, but they have been shrewd. They know I can't put them at the scene of the murder. Without doing that, I will never get a confession out of them."

"You don't need to. Take a look at this," Drake said excitedly.

"The money trail," Mason said. "This is what happened to the money that was taken out the day after Edward's was murdered. But how? He was the only one on the account."

"Apparently, when we checked on Kirsten Edwards' account, the money wasn't there. She got a very large deposit into that account later. The house, boat, car, and credit cards were all paid off. The remaining money was transferred to another account," Paul reported.

"Into an account that was joint with William Adair," Mason said as he continued to read the report.

"That's right, Perry. It fits with all the information we have."

"Mister Mason, your moment is up," Judge Archibald said impatiently.

"Yes, it is. Thank you, Your Honor."

Realizing, Fredendall's testimony was even more important since Mason was now certain who had murdered Steven Edwards, there was only one way to question him. Mason would make sure the councilman was exposed as dirty. "Councilman Fredendall, does the name William Adair mean anything to you?"

"Should it?"

Mason smiled. "If you don't mind, I'll ask the questions. You just answer them. "Does his name mean anything to you?"

Fredendall hesitated only long enough for Mason to determine he had hit a nerve. "I believe I have consulted him on occasion."

"On what?" Mason asked.

Burger was on his feet. "Objection! Of all people, Mister Mason knows that conversations are confidential between client and attorney."

"Sustained."

"All right. We will go at it from another way," Mason said. "Did you ever do business with him outside of lawyer-client business?"

"Objection!" Burger shouted.

"Wait a minute, Mister Burger. Mister Mason's question doesn't violate the attorney-client privilege. The witness will answer the question."

"No, I have not."

Mason turned to Archibald. "At this time, Your Honor, I have a request."

"Yes, what is it?"

"I have reason to believe the police picked up a journal of William Adair's transactions with a number of people. I believe the journal will show that the Councilman has just perjured himself."

Tragg bent over and whispered to Burger, "I had a feeling Mason had been inside that cottage. We just can't prove it."

"Mister Burger, is what Mister Mason said true?"

Burger stood up. "Well, yes, Your Honor. The police did find a journal in his cottage. However, it is evidence the prosecution intends to use, but it will be presented at a later date."

Mason once again addressed the bench. "That is unacceptable to the defense. The district attorney doesn't have the right to withhold evidence that can help the defendant."

"How do you know it will help the defendant?" Burger snapped.

"Will the evidence help the defendant, Mister Burger?" Archibald asked.

"Well . . . it . . ."

"I think the court would like to see this journal now," the judge said.

Frustrated, Burger continued to argue. "If the prosecution is forced to present this evidence before we choose to, I think Mister Mason should enlighten the court as to why he believes it will help his client."

"A reasonable request. Mister Mason?"

Mason thought fast on his feet. "Your Honor, we've already had one witness admit to being involved in illegal trafficking of stolen painting and artifacts, and I can prove the councilman was as well. It is the contention of the defense that they both, as well as another city councilman, consulted William Adair in hopes he could help them hide their illegal acts. All of these men were in this together. That journal is the reason Mister Adair was murdered, and it has a direct connection to the murder of Steven Edwards." Perry hoped that was enough for the judge. He didn't want to explain how he knew about the journal.

As Hamilton Burger stood up, Judge Archibald put up his hand. "I feel Mister Mason has given a reasonable explanation as to why the journal should be presented at this time."

"But, Mister Mason has not explained how . . ."

Archibald interrupted him. "The court orders the journal be provided at this time."

"Your Honor, all I am asking is that Mister Mason explain how he knew . . ."

"That is enough! I have ruled on the journal. Produce the journal at once." The tone of Archibald's voice told Burger he couldn't argue any further without bringing the judge's wrath down on him. He sat down in his seat. It was so obvious he was fuming that Tragg leaned over to him.

"Let it go, Hamilton. No matter what razzle dazzle Mason puts on, it doesn't change the fact that Brace's fingerprints were on the tire iron and the other people can't be placed at the scene of the murder."

"The judge could contend it would not be unusual for his prints to be on a tire iron he owns, and as far as the others not being placed at the scene, well, that could change."

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Tragg questioned.

"The side of the law. I don't want this murderer walking out of the courtroom because of Perry's dog and pony show," Burgers said, displaying anger. Tragg decided not to say anymore. It was better he let Burger cool off.

"Well, Mister Burger?" the judge said when Burger made no attempt to follow his ruling.

"It will take a few minutes to have it brought in."

"See that it is only a few. In the meantime, Mister Mason, are you prepared to continue until it arrives?"

"I am."

"Then proceed."

Perry Mason walked over to the stand. "Would you like to retract your testimony regarding doing business with William Adair outside of the attorney-client privilege?"

Fredendall didn't answer immediately. He was trying to determine in his mind if Mason was bluffing. He found it hard to believe Adair would be stupid enough to keep a journal of the business he had done with all of them. He would be implicated the same as they would. Mason was known for bluffing witnesses into confessing things they wouldn't ordinarily confess. The problem was the attorney was projecting a stone-cold poker face and Fredendall simply couldn't read him.

Mason wanted to blame Edwards' murder on him to get his client off. Fredendall was not about to allow him to bluff him into making any admissions. He wasn't retracting anything. The damn lawyer was bluffing; he was sure of it. "No, I don't want to change my testimony. Nor do I appreciate you making accusations. You will hear from my lawyer, Mason."

"I look forward to it," Mason said with a smile.

Burger's assistant came into the room. He was carrying the journal Mason wanted on the record. The man walked over to the prosecution table and handed it to Hamilton. Burger turned his attention to the judge, but not before giving Mason a disapproving look.

"Your Honor, we have the journal in the courtroom at this time."

"Bring it to the bench, Mister Burger," he ordered. Burger stood up and walked over to the bench. He reached up and set it down. "We will take a 45 minute recess so I may review the journal. I will then rule whether Mister Mason's client has been deprived of evidence that is to his benefit." Archibald got up, and with the journal in hand, left the courtroom.

As the bailiff took Jack Brace away, Perry turned around. "Paul, I want subpoenas issued to these two people, and I want them in court when it resumes." He handed Drake a piece of paper with names and addresses of where to find them.

"That's not going to be easy, Perry," Paul said.

"It will be easier if you get going," Mason said with a grin. Drake took off on the run.

"Perry, what witnesses?" Della asked him.

"I know who killed Edwards and Adair. The journal will show it is beneficial to my client, but I needed to buy time to get the subpoenas. I need those witnesses in the courtroom. I'll explain later. I have to see the judge to get William Adair's records subpoenaed as well. Go across the street and get yourself something to eat. I'll be back shortly." Mason left his briefcase with Della and left the courtroom in a hurry.

2

"Exactly, what records of William Adair are you seeking, Perry?" Archibald asked.

"I want his financial records, as well as the records of his legal business with Fredendall, Flynn Mozart. I also want a trace on where the money came from, as well as where it went after Adair received it."

Archibald frown. "You know very well I can't allow the legal records to be released. That is private between attorney and clients. However, with what I have read in that journal, you are not going to need them. There is plenty in there you can use. You can have the financial records and the trace on the money."

Mason knew the legal records would never be approved. He figured there wasn't any way Archibald would give them to him. Actually, he really didn't want the judge to give out any of the legal records. It would set a bad precedence for all attorneys to protect their clients as well as themselves. He wanted to ask for more than he actually wanted, figuring by denying him the legal records, he would be inclined to approve the rest, and he had been right.

Mason would soon have everything he needed to clear Jack Brace and put the real murderers behind bars where they belonged.


	21. Chapter 21

The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 21

1

The sun shined in the window of Perry Mason's bedroom. Peaking through the curtains, it aimed its beam of light directly into the lawyer's eyes. Mason opened his eyes, but immediately squinted. He looked down at the woman lying in the crook of his right arm and wondered how he ever lived his life before he met her.

The lawyer loved what he did for a living. There couldn't possibly be a more satisfying occupation out there. Mason loved being able to protect people accused of murders they didn't commit. There wasn't any doubt Jack Brace was a crook. He confirmed that. He stole valuable artifacts and paintings for years and got away with it. Did he deserve to go to jail for that? Of course he did. Mason wouldn't argue the point. Yet, he firmly believe Jack Brace was not guilty of the murder of Steve Edwards. In fact, Mason was now certain he knew who was. Today, he would try to prove it in court.

He would probably be able to provide enough reasonable doubt to get his client off, but that was never good enough for the famous attorney. Mason was fully aware an acquittal would exonerate his client in the eyes of the court. However, it rarely exonerated the client in the eyes of the public. Many people would believe he was guilty of murder despite Mason providing reasonable doubt. Furthermore, he hated seeing any murderer get away with it. Today was no different. He did not want Steve Edwards' murderer to get away with it either. And he wouldn't if Mason had anything to say about it.

The alarm on the stand next to him went off. It was time to get up. He and Della had to be in court by nine o'clock. Both of them had been working pretty hard. Neither had gotten much sleep lately. Mason decided to allow Della to sleep a little longer. That is, if he could pull his shoulder out from beneath her without waking her. Slowly, he began to move away from her. Within a moment, he's successfully removed his shoulder from beneath her head. Mason slid out of bed after throwing the covers back. He headed into the bathroom to take a shower. Turning on the water and checking the temperature for comfort, he stepped into the shower stall. The lawyer allowed the water to beat down on him as he thought about how he was going to handle court proceedings. He noticed Della has set out a towel and washcloth for him. At least, he thought it was for him. Then again, she rarely thought of herself. She always put him first.

Upon completion of his shower, Mason reached for the towel the love of his life set over the shower door for him. After drying his body and hair, he went to the sink, combed his hair, and shaved. With the towel around his waist, he headed back into the bedroom. Glancing over at the bed, it was empty. A suit, shirt, tie, and under clothes were set out for him. He couldn't help but smile. As always, Della took care of every aspect of his life. Mason got dressed and headed for the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs invaded his nostrils.

His secretary was at the stove, her back to him. Mason went over to her, put his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into her neck. Della smiled and turned around in his arms. Mason bent down and kissed her lightly.

"You better eat your breakfast. We don't have a lot of time," she said. "I'm going to go and take a shower."

"What about your breakfast?" he said, concerned that she might be skipping it on his account.

"I already ate" she told him.

Mason then noticed the dishes in the sink. "We could have eaten breakfast together."

"We may have, if you had waken me when you got up."

"You needed the sleep. I have been working you pretty hard lately."

Amused, she looked into his blue eyes. "And you haven't been working just as hard?"

"I have more stanima than you do."

Della raised an eyebrow. "Oh really, Mister Mason?"

Grinning, the lawyer said, "Who woke up first?"

"Who usually wakes up first?" she responded.

The grin turned a bit sheepish. "Okay, I concede."

"You better," she said with a chuckle. When Perry released her, she left the kitchen to head to the bathroom for a shower.

2

Paul Drake waited anxiously for Perry Mason to enter the courtroom. In his hand, he held a large envelope. Drake had been up extremely late the previous night obtaining the information Mason requested. That information was contained in the manila envelope he intended to give the lawyer as soon as he entered the courtroom.

Hamilton Burger came in with Lieutenant Arthur Tragg at his side. Both men glanced at Drake, and then sat down at the prosecutor's table. Burger could not take his eyes off of Drake. "Now what do you suppose Drake has in that envelope?"

Tragg shook his head. "I don't know, Hamilton. I don't believe we left any stone unturned. Then again, Mason has a talent for finding new stones."

"Brace is guilty. Mason makes me nervous. I can't believe he is willing to help get this guy off for murder. Perry has always been just as concerned as we are when it comes to not allowing a murderer to go free. Why is he trying to get this one off?"

"Hamilton, you know as well as I do that Perry always thinks his clients are innocent. This guy is no different. He thinks he is innocent as well."

"Well, he's wrong. He's guilty as hell," Burger complained, "and I have no intention of allowing him to turn a murderer free."

There was a commotion in the back of the courtroom. Burger and Tragg turned to see what was causing it. They got their answer right away as Perry Mason and Della Street entered the courtroom. Reporters swarmed around the lawyer and began shouting questions at him. Mason just smiled and told them "No comment."

"Have you ever been in a courtroom where it is not packed, and the reporters not treating the defense attorney like a rock star?" Tragg asked his friend.

"Yeah, whenever Perry is not the defense attorney," Burger drawled.

When Mason reached the defense table, Paul Drake pushed his way past the gate dividing the attorneys from the spectators. "Perry, boy have I got some information! I want you to know I stayed up half the night getting this for you."

"Only half the night?" Mason said with a smirk on his face. "You mean to tell me you've been sleeping on the job?"

"Just keep it up, pal." Drake said, trying to keep a stern look on his face, when all he wanted to do was laugh. He placed the envelope in Mason's hand.

Jack Brace looked at his attorney. "Is that good news?"

Without answering his client, Mason pulled the information out of the envelope, very aware that Hamilton Burger was watching him. He skimmed through it and then smiled. Looking at his client, he finally answered him. "It is good news indeed."

Judge Archibald entered the courtroom, as the bailiff called out, "All rise." Everyone in the courtroom stood up. As soon as Archibald took his seat behind the bench, everyone sat back down.

"I have taken the time to read the entire journal of William Adair. I am surprised at the prosecutor not allowing Mister Mason to see this journal. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this journal will aid the defense. Therefore, by order of this court, the prosecution will provide the defense with a copy of the journal. Since I already told the prosecution about this ruling, I expect that journal to be turned over to Mister Mason immediately."

Tragg looked at Burger. "You didn't tell me that you already knew what this ruling would be."

"I only got word of it last night. I got up early this morning in order to have a copy of the journal made."

Hamilton Burger stood up. "Your Honor, I must object. I do not feel there is anything in that journal that will make that much difference to the defense."

"Mister Burger, if it helps the defense at all, in any way, you shouldn't have withheld it from the defense attorney. Therefore, your objection is overruled. I order that you provide a copy to Mister Mason immediately."

Hamilton knew this was the ruling he would receive, but he had to object anyway. He didn't believe that there was anything in that journal that would be of much use to Perry Mason. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out the copy that had been made for the defense attorney. Walking over to his table, Hamilton handed it to Mason, who accepted it with a smile.

"Thank you, Hamilton."

"Mister Mason, do you need some time to read the journal? If so, I am willing to give you a short recess in order to become familiar with the contents."

Mason stood up and smiled. "Thank you, Your Honor, but that will not be necessary."

"Then the defense is ready to continue?"

"We are, Your Honor," Mason replied.

"Then call your next witness."

"The defense calls April Tompkins to the stand."

Miss Tompkins stood up and made her way to the front of the courtroom. Mason opened the gate for her and smiled. She was not exactly a hostile witness, but she was not happy about being called to testify. Mason had no doubt that by testifying, she would more than likely lose her job with Roy Flynn. After she was sworn in, Mason approached his witness.

"Miss Tompkins, tell the court what you do for a living," Mason requested.

"I am Roy Flynn's executive secretary."

"The same Roy Flynn who testified in this courtroom?"

"Yes, one and the same."

"Did you on occasion have the responsibility of accepting packages delivered to the office?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did you ever open any of those packages?"

"No, Mister Flynn is adamant about not allowing me to open them. He's very secretive about them."

"Do you know what is in those packages?" Mason asked.

Hamilton Burger remained seated but immediately called out, "Objection! How could the witness possibly know what was in the packages if she didn't open them?"

"Sustained," Archibald ruled.

Mason was not deterred. He would get the answers he wanted another way. "Did any of the articles in question come in without packaging?"

"Yes, but not very often."

"And what were some of those that came in without packaging?"

"Oh Your Honor, what does this have to do with anything? Mister Mason is fishing again. As often as he does that, he is going to have to purchase a new fishing pole. This one is worn out." That drew laughter from the people in the room.

"Mister Burger, you know better than to spout sarcastic remarks in my courtroom." Archibald showed obvious anger which probably accounted for his next remark. "If that is an objection, you're overruled. Continue, Mister Mason."

Mason smiled and bowed. "Thank you, Your Honor." Turning back to his witness, he repeated the question.

"Some of them were paintings and some were statues," she answered.

"And who brought them in?" Mason asked.

"Steven Edwards."

"Did you ever have the occasion to hear any disagreements between the deceased and Mister Flynn?"

"Objection," Hamilton Burger said. "This is nothing but hearsay!"

Judge Archibald looked over at the defense attorney. "Mister Mason, what do you intend to show with this line of questioning?"

"I intend to show that more than one person had a motive to kill Steven Edwards."

"It is still hearsay," the district attorney complained.

Archibald looked over at Burger, and then ruled, "I'm going to allow this line of questioning." Burger sat down in frustration.

Mason turned and smiled at Tompkins. "Did you need me to repeat the question?"

"No, that's all right. I understand the question. And yes, I heard them argue on more than one occasion."

"Did Mister Flynn ever threaten Steven Edwards?"

"Not to his face. But I remember one time after a heated argument, Steven Edwards left his office. As my boss slammed his office door, I heard him say I could kill that son-of-a-bitch."

Quiet chatter could be heard all over the courtroom before Judge Archibald slammed his gavel to quiet the crowd.

"Do you know what the argument was about on that particular occasion?" Mason asked her.

"Yes, Edwards was using some kind of journal to blackmail Mister Flynn into continuing to use his services to steal valuable paintings and artifacts. This was after Jack Brace decided to quit the business. Edward said he was going to force Tommy Brace to take his father's place."

"In other words, Roy Flynn had a motive to get Edwards out of the way didn't he?"

Burger shot out of his seat. "Objection! Calls for an improper opinion."

"Sustained."

Mason smiled. He knew Hamilton would object to that question. However, he wanted it to be heard out loud that Roy Flynn had a motive. "Your witness, Mister Burger."

Burger stood up. "Ms Tompkins, do you always eavesdrop on your boss's conversations?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping," she said indignantly. "It is difficult not to hear what is being said when two people are shouting at each other."

"But the door to his office was closed, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was."

Burger saw his opening. "Then how could you possibly be sure of what was being said through a closed door?"

"Like I said they were shouting and I could hear them clearly."

"Were you answering the telephones at the time?"

"No, they were not ringing. I was typing out some paperwork for Mister Flynn."

"So you were concentrating while typing on the computer, is that correct?"

"Yes, I was."

"So you would like this court to believe that while you were typing on the computer, concentrating on what you were typing, that you still were able to listen and hear exactly what was said inside the office.

"Obviously, Mister Burger, you have never spent much time typing. I can type and carry on a conversation with someone without missing a single word on the computer. Besides, I already told you they were shouting. It wasn't difficult to hear what they were saying."

Perry Mason withheld a smile. The woman could not have done a better job if Mason had coached her. He could see the frustration on Hamilton's face. The district attorney turned and went back to his table. Instead of discrediting the witness' testimony, he had helped to confirm it.

"No further questions," Burger snapped.

"Call your next witness, Mister Mason."

Lieutenant Tragg placed his hand on Hamilton's wrist. "Why do you suppose Perry did that? He already got Flynn to admit he was being blackmailed."

"Because he got it on record that Flynn threatened Edwards."

"That wasn't much of a threat," Tragg said. "He didn't actually say he was going to kill him. He said he could kill him."

"Does it really matter, Arthur? He was being blackmailed. Perry just provided him with a motive to murder Edwards. It really doesn't make any difference anyway. It is just Mason's usual razzle dazzle. He can't place any of these people at the scene of the murder. We can place Jack Brace there. And nothing Mason does will change any of that."

"The defense calls city councilman, Bill Mozat to the stand."

The councilman stood up and walked to the front of the courtroom. As he passed through the gates, he gave Mason a glance that couldn't be described as anything but hatred. After he was sworn in, he sat down and waited for the defense attorney.

"You serve on the city council, is that correct?" Mason asked.

"Obviously, after all, you called me to the stand as a city councilman," he said sarcastically. The room broke out in laughter.

Judge Archibald banged his gavel. "I will not tolerate such outbursts. The spectators will be quiet, or I will clear the courtroom. "Go ahead Mister Mason."

"Mister Mozat, Have you ever had any dealings with Steven Edwards?"

"No I have not, so don't try and smear my reputation."

"The witness will answer defense counsel's questions and nothing else. Keep your comments to yourself," the judge admonished.

"Have you on any occasion had business transactions with Steve Edwards?"

"Objection! That question has been asked and answered," Hamilton Burger complained. "There isn't any difference between business transactions and dealings."

"Sustained."

Mason walked back to the defense table and Della Street handed him several copies of checks. He took them back to the witness stand and spread them out for the councilman to examine. "Tell the court what those are copies of."

Mozat's face turned red with anger. When he regained his composure, he answered, "They are copies of checks made out to Steven Edwards signed by Drew Wolf."

"Do you recognize the company on which they are drawn?" Mason asked.

"No, I do not."

"Well, you should." When Mozat said nothing, Mason walked back to the defense table and Della handed him one of the reports Paul Drake brought into the courtroom. Returning to the witness, he stood in front of him scanning the report. Finally, he handed the report to Mozat. He waited for him to adsorb the contents. Mason got the reaction he was expecting. Mozat's face went pale. "That is the application for the overseas account for Matilda Incorporated. Are you certain that name means nothing to you?" When Mozat attempted to answer, Mason interrupted him. "Be careful how you answer the question . . . "

Before Mason could complete what he intended to say, Hamilton was on his feet. "Your Honor, I must object to Mister Mason threatening his own witness."

"I was not threatening the witness. If Mister Burger had allowed me to finish what I was about to say, he would not be objecting right now."

Archibald looked at Burger. "With what defense counsel has said, are you still objecting?"

Hamilton stood there for a moment. Finally, he said, "I will withdraw my objection for the moment."

Mason turned back to the witness. "Mister Mozat, I suggest," he said looking back at Burger before continuing, "you reconsider your answer. You could be charged with perjury. Now, again, I ask you, does the name Matilda Incorporated mean anything to you?"

Mozat was concerned what Mason may have discovered. Was he bluffing? He couldn't have possibly been able to find out his connection to Matilda Incorporated. He didn't open the account in his own name. Mozat was certain of that. So, he decided to call what he thought was a bluff. "I already told you, it doesn't mean anything to me."

"You weren't raised by your biological parents were you?"

"No, my parents were killed in a car accident when I was eight years old."

Mason leaned into the stand. "Who did raise you?"

"I object on the grounds it is incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial. Who raised this witness has nothing to do with the current case."

"If the district attorney will be patient, I will connect this up," Mason pleaded.

The judge thought about it for a moment and then ruled, "Mister Mason, I am going to allow this line of questioning. However, if you fail to connect to the current case, I will sustain Mister Burger's objection and strike the testimony."

"Fair enough," Mason said with a smile before turning back to Mozat. "Now, Councilman Mozat, "Who raised you?"

"My godmother," he said, fearing that Mason knew more then he was letting on.

"And your godmother's name?" Mason demanded.

Damn Mason, he thought. He knows, he knows. He sat there knowing he was caught in a trap. If he gave Mason his godmother's name, he would know he had lied about the name meaning nothing to him.

"I would like an answer to my question," Mason thundered.

Startled by the tone of the lawyer's voice, Mozat looked up at the judge. "Do I have to answer this? It has nothing to do with this case."

"Apparently,Mister Mason believes it does. He has promised to connect it up to this case, so answer his question," Judge Archibald ordered.

Obviously, there was no getting around it. Mason knew. He was about to be caught in a lie and probably charged with perjury. "My godmother's name is Matilda."

The spectators began to whisper around the room. The feeling that Mason was on to something was strong.

"Matilda," Mason repeated loudly. "A company that was named after your mother, and you've never heard of it?"

"Objection! Mister Mason is assuming facts not in evidence. There is nothing to prove the company was named after Mister Mozat's godmother, or that he had anything to do with it.

"Sustained. Mister Mason, before you make that accusation, you better be able to prove it."

"Oh, I can prove it." He walked back to the defense table. Della handed him more paperwork. The attorney headed right back to the witness and put the paperwork down in front of him. "Will you tell the court what that is?"

"It appears to be an application to open account under the name of Matilda Incorporated."

Within the air of confidence, Mason said, "And what name is on the application?"

"Drew Wolf."

"This is getting ridiculous," shouted Hamilton Burger. "That only not proves that the witness did not open the account, it also proves the company is not named after his godmother."

"The account may not have been opened in the witness's name," Mason thundered, "but he did open it. In the back of the room, Terry Gardner can testify as a handwriting expert that William Mozat sign the application as Drew Wolf." When Mason turned around, Gardner stood up from his seat at the back of the courtroom.

"Damn you, Mason!"

The judge banged his gavel. "That will be just about enough, Councilman unless you want to be held in contempt of court."

Mozat set in the witness stand seething. Not only would he probably be removed as a city councilman, he could very well be charged with perjury. He couldn't believe Mason had been able to find out that he was the one that opened the account. Now, he had no doubt he was about to pursue where the money in the account came from.

"All right, now that we have established that you actually did do business with Steven Edwards, let's talk about the money in the account." Mason's famous blue-eyed stare was directed at the city councilman. "Where did the two million dollars in the account come from? You certainly didn't make that kind of money as a Los Angeles city councilman."

He knew he was in big trouble now. He wasn't about to admit anything. "I will not answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me. I want a lawyer. I am not answering anything else."

"You were being blackmailed by Steven Edwards, weren't you? He threatened to reveal the association between you, Jack Brace and himself. Isn't that correct?"

"I refuse to answer that question under the grounds that it might incriminate me. I want a lawyer."

"Where were you on the night that Stephen Edwards was murdered?"

"Are you deaf, Mason? I said I wasn't answering your questions."

Tragg whispered to Burger, "That's another one with a motive to kill Edwards. Are you beginning to think that there is a possibility Jack Brace didn't murder him after all?"

"No, he did it. Mason is just trying to confuse the issues. He can't place any of these people at the scene of the murder. The only one that can be placed there is Jack Brace."

"Hamilton, maybe we better take a closer look at this. I can't help but wonder that there's more to it than we have checked into."

"Brace is not going to get away with murder," Hamilton Burger snapped at his friend. Neither one of them had noticed that Mason turn the witness over to the prosecution.

"Mister Burger," the judge said impatiently, "Do you have any questions of this witness?"

"What? Ah . . . no, Your Honor."

"Mister Mason, do you have any more witnesses?"

"I called Jill Bailey to the stand." After Bailey was sworn in, Mason began his examination.

"Miss Bailey, did you know the deceased, Steven Edwards?"

Bailey had been watching the proceedings. She saw how Mason was tearing the witnesses apart. She didn't know how much he knew, but she was not about to lie on the stand. Mostly, it would just embarrass her anyway. "Yes, I knew him."

"Just exactly how well did you know him?"

Bailey squirmed in her seat. Obviously, Mason did his homework. He knew. "Let's just say we were really close."

"Lovers?"

"Objection! Your Honor, I have been patient, but Steven Edwards is not the one who is on trial here. However, from Mister Mason's examinations of the witnesses, you would never know it."

"Just a moment, Mister Burger. Mister Mason has the right to show that there were others who had motive to kill Steven Edwards."

"I am not questioning that," Burger said. "He has that right, but at the same time, he must also show that they had opportunity. So far he has failed to do that."

"I am a firm believer in giving the defense attorney the widest of latitude. Mister Mason, you may continue."

Burger turned in whispered to the lieutenant, "Have you counted up the number of times he has overruled my objections? I know it has to be far more than he has sustained. Why is it some of these judges are just intimidated by Mason?"

"Hamilton, have you been listening to these witnesses? So far, everyone that Perry has put on the stand had motive to kill Steven Edwards."

"Just whose side are you on?" Burger complained.

"The side of justice. If Brace is not guilty of murder, he doesn't deserve to get the death penalty. I think we better let this play out. I have a feeling Mason knows something we don't. Don't let frustration with Mason cloud your judgment. I'm telling you that as your friend."

"Miss Bailey, did you want me to repeat the question?" Mason asked.

"I heard you the first time. I'm not deaf, Mister Mason. All right, you want all the dirty laundry, I'll give it to you. Yes, we were having an affair."

"Is that affair still going on?" Mason asked.

"No, he ended it."

"I see." Mason went back to the manila envelope with the treasure trove of information Paul Drake brought to him. He pulled out an investment report in Bailey's name. Returning to the stand, he held the report and continued. "You removed $100,000.00 from a certificate of deposit account. You invested the money somewhere else. . ."

"Objection, is Mister Mason testifying for the witness or just leading her?" Burger complained.

"Sustained. Rephrase, Counselor."

"Did you remove $100,000.00 from your certificate of deposit account?"

"Yes."

"And where did it go? Mason demanded.

"I gave it to Steve. He said he knew of an investment that would get me a lot more money."

"But it didn't, did it?"

She started to cry. "No, he told me the money was lost; that the investment didn't pan out. Then he broke off our relationship."

"Where were you on the night of the murder?" Mason asked.

"At home, alone."

"You didn't leave your home, follow Steve Edwards to the house he was burglarizing, and then kill him?"

"Actually, I did follow him to that house. I took a glock with me. I intended to kill him, but Jack Brace beat me to it."

There were murmurs throughout the courtroom, which Judge Archibald silenced with his gavel.

"I told you he knew something we didn't. Now he has someone with the motive and opportunity," Tragg whispered to Burger, who was worried Mason was about to blow his case out of the water.

"Your witness, Mister Burger, but I reserve the right to recall this witness," Mason said.

"What time did you arrive?" Burger asked after the judge granted Mason his request.

"At the house where I found Steve? I don't know; I didn't look at a clock. I went inside and found him lying on the floor. He was dead. I panicked and ran out."

"Did you see anyone else there or around the house?" Burger asked, hoping she would identify Jack Brace.

"No, I didn't see anyone."

Disappointed, Burger said, "No more questions."

"The witness may step down. Looking at his watch, he glanced at the defense attorney. "Mister Mason, how many more witnesses are you going to call?"

"Just one, then I may recall Miss Bailey," Mason responded.

"Will your examination be very long?"

"Not that long, Your Honor."

"Then proceed, Counselor."

"Thank you, Your Honor. The defense calls Kirsten Edwards."

The wife of Steve Edwards stood up, came forward, and passed through the gate. After being sworn in, she sat down in the witness stand. Mrs. Edwards was wearing a black dress, hat and vail. She carried a handkerchief in her right hand, which she used to dab her eyes.

Mason stood there for a moment. Obviously, she was trying to illicit sympathy from the people in the room. Mason would look like a bully if he went after her. He had a job to do and he intended to do it anyway. He walked over to the stand. "Mrs. Edwards, I will try to make this as brief as possible. I understand that you have experienced a loss."

She dabbed her eyes again. "Thank you, Mister Mason. I appreciate that."

"Was your marriage to Steve Edwards a happy one?"

"Oh yes, very much so," she answered and dabbed her eyes again.

"Then please explain to the court why your husband filed for divorce?" Mason asked.

"What? That's not true. I was never served with divorce papers."

"Only because he filed for the divorce the day before he died," Mason said. He walked back to the defense table and pulled a copy of the legal document from the manila jacket. Returning to the witness stand, he handed it to her.

After looking it over, Kirsten Edwards claimed, "I knew nothing of this. There must be some mistake."

"Do you remember that I came to see you?"

"Yes, of course."

"And you told me at the time that the mortgage was past due, and that you knew nothing of your husband's activities?"

"You must be mistaken, Mister Mason. Steven and I planned to pay off the mortgage within a few days. He gave me the money to do it."

"Then you deny that you called the bank in front of me and told me the mortgage was past due?"

"I certainly do," she said.

Mason went back to the defense table and stood there. Della handed him another paper. When was the mortgage paid off?"

"The day before Jack Brace murdered my husband."

Mason smiled. "Then how do you explain why this bank statement shows it was paid off the day after his death, as well as the vehicle loan?"

"My lawyer was supposed to pay them off. He must not have paid them when he was supposed to."

"Who is your lawyer?"

"Objection!" Mister Mason is a lawyer. He knows fully well communication between lawyer and client is privilege information."

"I wish you would respect that when you and the Lieutenant badger me for communication between my clients and me," Mason snapped.

"That's enough gentlemen. I will not tolerate personalities in my courtroom. I don't see the harm in Mrs. Edwards revealing her lawyer's name. However, I caution the defense counsel on questioning privilege communication. The witness may answer the question.

"My lawyer was William Adair."

"Really? William Adair. Are you aware he was murdered a short time ago?" Mason asked.

"I read it in the paper."

"Wasn't he also your husband's attorney?"

"Yes."

"And yet you didn't know what he was up to?"

"No," she said shaking her head.

Paul Drake rushed into the courtroom. Mason hadn't even noticed he had left earlier. The private eye headed right for the lawyer.

"Your Honor, may I have a moment?" Mason requested.

"Yes, but only a moment."

Burger and Tragg watched as Mason and Drake talked quietly at the defense table. "I just got this from one of my operatives who is working on the case. Perry, Tragg and Burger found another set of prints at the crime scene. I compared them to Jill Bailey's prints. She was in that house."

"I already know that, Paul. She admitted it on the stand."

"Yeah, but I'll bet Burger and Tragg didn't tell you that her car was seen there before your client showed up."

"If he was dead when she arrived, then he was already dead before my client got there."

"That is what I am trying to tell you. Jill Bradley killed Steven Edwards."

"Thanks, Paul." Mason said thoughtfully.

"Mister Mason!" the judge called out.

"I'm ready, Your Honor." He walked back to the witness stand. "I only have a couple more questions for you, Mrs. Edwards. Were you having an affair?"

"What? Of course not! I loved Steven."

"It won't work, Mrs. Edwards, you can't hide behind William Adair's dead body. Your Honor, this witness is not being honest. She didn't love her husband."

"Objection!" Burger said, shooting out of his seat. "Mister Mason couldn't possibly know if the witness loved her husband or not."

"Sustained! Mister Mason, you know better than that."

"I believe I can prove it. I also believe I can prove she killed Steven Edwards."

The courtroom broke out in pandemonium. Judge Archibald started banging his gavel. There will be order or I will clear the courtroom!"

After a few minutes order had returned. Archibald gave Mason a stern look. "You better be able to back up what you are saying, Counselor, or I will hold you in contempt of court.

"I believe I can prove it if I am allow to continue," Perry Mason said.

"Go ahead, but watch yourself," Archibald warned.

Mason walked over to the witness stand. "What would you say if I said I had proof you were having an affair with William Adair? And what would you further say if I said Steven Edwards found out about that affair and told you he wanted a divorce."

"Oh hell!" Burger said.

"But you couldn't allow that. All the money was in an account you couldn't access. So you went to Jill Bradley who did have access to the account. However, because Edwards had ended their relationship, he was in the process of removing Miss Bradley from the overseas account.

"If Steven Edwards removed her, it would end both your chances of getting any of the 10 million dollars. So, the two of you conspired to murder your husband. Jill Bradley's car was seen at the scene of the murder. She didn't find Steven Edward's dead body; you went inside and murdered him. It was you who stole the tire iron out of Jack Brace's car, using a key that Jack had given Steven a long time ago. A key he had forgotten all about." The next part was going to be tricky. Mason had to play it just right. "After you committed the act and left the tire iron for the police to find, you both were certain Jack Brace would be blamed because of Steve Edward's trying to pull Tommy Brace into a life of crime and the murder weapon with Jack Brace's initials.

"Then another problem came about . . . in the form of William Adair. You thought you were home free when Jack Brace fired me and hired Mister Adair. You tried to talk him into throwing the case. But he couldn't do it, could he? He found out you murdered Steven Edwards. He threatened to go to the police, so you murdered him."

"No! I didn't, I couldn't. I loved him. I couldn't kill him, so Jill said she would do it."

Jill Bradley shot out of her chair. "Shut up, you stupid, bitch! You've ruined everything. Mason couldn't prove a damn thing. He bluffed, and you fell for it!"

Once again the courtroom broke out in pandemonium. Archibald banged his gavel to no avail. Finally, the crowd quieted down on their own. They had just watched Perry Mason destroy another of Hamilton Burger's cases.

Judge Archibald looked over at Hamilton Burger. "Mister Burger, I think a motion is in order."

A stunned district attorney stood up, glanced over at Mason, and said, "Your Honor, I move all charges against the defendant be dismissed."

Banging his gavel one more time, he said, "Case dismissed. Bailiff, take Miss Bailey and Mrs. Edwards into custody."

Jack Brace stood up and looked at his lawyer with admiration. Tommy came forward along with Jack's wife and hugged him. When they let go, he reached out his hand to Mason. "I don't know how I can ever thank you, Mister Mason. You were unbelievable!"

"You're not out of the woods yet, Jack," Mason said.

"I know that. Will you handle it for me?"

"Yes, I think I can make a deal with Hamilton Burger." Just then Burger stepped up behind Mason.

"Perry, it never ceases to amaze me what you can do in a courtroom."

"Thank you Hamilton. We need to talk," Mason said.

"All right, yes I'll work with you. We'll come to an arrangement. Looks like we have three city councilmen to arrest."

"I can help you with that, Mister Burger. There will be a lot more. I have kept a record with names and article that we were commissioned to steal. You are going to be kept pretty busy arresting people. Believe me, I have changed. I want to make amends as much as possible," Jack Brace said.

"We'll talk, Mister Brace," Hamilton said.

Tommy looked up at the tall, handsome attorney. "I knew you would clear my dad. I just knew it. Thanks, Mister Mason."

"You're welcome, Tommy. Now I expect you to make something of yourself," the lawyer told him.

Tommy grinned. "I was thinking of law school."

Perry Mason could only smile. "Good choice." He watched Jack Brace and his family leave the courtroom.

Arthur Tragg came over to join them. "Perry, I have a question for you. Everything you said to Kirsten Edwards. You don't have a shred of proof, do you?"

Mason grinned. "I said . . . "

"What if I told you . . . ," Burger and Tragg said at the same time.

Everyone laughed before Mason said. "Read William Adair's journal and find the one Steven Edwards kept. They will lead you to the evidence. Jack's journal will have plenty of information. You will find that Kirsten Edwards was removing money from the overseas account despite not being on the account. That is why Steve Edwards decided to divorce her. He also knew she was having an affair with William Adair while he was having an affair with Jill Bradley. The bank accounts of Kirsten Edwards Jill Bradley have matching withdrawals and deposits. If you dig a bit, you'll find the evidence."

"And there are the confessions as well," Della said.

"You owe me one, Perry," Hamilton said. "I must have aged 10 years with those examinations of yours today."

Mason ran his finger at Burger's temples. "I can see the gray coming through."

They laughed at Burger's expense. Hamilton and Arthur left the courtroom.

Paul, who had been standing by, walked over to Perry and Della. "Perry, how did you know Bradley and Edwards were working together?"

"I didn't for sure. With the information you provided, I could have cleared Jack because of the timeline. He couldn't have committed the murder if Jill Bradley had been telling the truth. But something told me she wasn't. And when I saw those matching deposits and withdrawals in the bank statements you provided, I put two and two together. Kirsten Edwards' gravy train would come to an end with a divorce. It made sense she would kill him since she was having an affair with William Adair and wanted to be with him. I didn't believe she could kill him. She actually loved him. Jill Bradley, on the other hand, wasn't about to allow Adair to go to the police. Edwards realized they had no choice. So, she let Jill Bradley do the dirty work this time. They might have gotten away with killing Steve Edwards if Adair hadn't developed a conscience."

"I should have seen that," Paul said. "Well, I got a date, and since this case is wrapped up, you couldn't possibly need my services tonight, unless of course you have another client about to be charged with murder."

"Enjoy yourself, Paul. It was your legwork that helped crack this case," Mason said.

"Well, you two kids have fun, I know I will." Drake left them with a big grin on his face.

Della looked up at her lawyer. "I'm proud of you."

"For what?" Perry asked.

"You not only solved one murder, you solved two," she said, smiling at him.

"Now that we have, what would you like to do for the evening?"

"Make that the weekend. This is Friday," Della pointed out.

"Okay, the weekend. You have my undivided attention," Mason said with a smile.

"How about you take me to dinner," she said.

"And?" he said leaning into her grinning.

"And then we go back to your place, pack and head for our little get-a-away in the country."

"And?" he said again, leaning closer.

"And we make love all weekend to make up for lost time this case caused."

"Sounds like my kind of weekend," he said, grabbing his briefcase she had already stuff the papers in. Then the couple left the courtroom for a weekend alone together.

The End

I do not own the Perry Mason characters. They are the creation of Erle Stanley Gardner. The rest of the characters were created in my imagination for the purpose of telling this story. I hope you have enjoyed it.

Please check out "The Case of the Meddling Attorney", my new Perry Mason/Ironside crossover. I will be back with another standalone Perry Mason story at a later date.

Thanks for your support.


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